Vigilante Justice
by A Traveler
Summary: Max runs into a dangerous man from his past who is not happy to see him. When he threatens to kill the Brennan family, Booth is determined to keep Bones safe... no matter what he has to do. B & B, Max, Russ. NEW Update
1. Chapter 1: Call Booth

**Vigilante Justice**

_Author's Notes: Another fanfic- blame the weather here around DC. Our town has had over 40 inches of snow in three days. So I'm writing and shoveling snow, in turns. _

_Disclaimer: I am just borrowing these characters from the Bones TV show and they can have them back when I'm done playing._

**Chapter 1: Call Booth**

Temperance Brennan groaned. She really should have turned off her cell phone. It was the wee hours of the morning and the thing had waked her to the disgustingly happy sound of 'The Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy.' Nothing should be allowed to sound that cheerful at this hour of the morning. The last time she'd had lunch with him, Booth had loaded it on her phone along with the "James Bond Theme Song" as his personal ring tone for his calls to her. She was going to change both ring tones first thing in the morning, she decided grumpily.

"What?" She muttered ungraciously into the receiver.

"Tempe? It's Russ."

She sat up, wide awake and alarmed by the rough tone of her brother's voice. "Russ! What's wrong?"

"Dad says you and I are in danger. He wants me to help him take care of things, and he wants you to call Booth. Now. Don't go anywhere alone, Tempe, do you hear me?"

"What? Why? Russ, you need to tell me what's going on. Where are you? I want to see you and Dad. You're frightening me."

"Just know that we're both okay. I want you to call Booth as soon as possible. Promise me."

"And tell him what?" She demanded, pacing anxiously in the moonlight, shivering in her thin night shirt and bare feet.

"Tell him that someone threatened to kill you and tell him to call me at this number. Be careful; I mean it, Tempe. I have to go. I love you."

"Russ! Wait!"

The call ended amid Brennan's terrified protests. She immediately pressed number 2 on her speed dial and put the phone back to her ear.

"Come on, come on—pick up!" She whispered as it rang. Finally he answered.

"Bones? What's wrong?"

Booth sounded worried, and with good reason. Brennan had never called him in the middle of the night before. In fact, she rarely called him at all when she wasn't at work.

"Booth, I'm sorry if I woke you," she stuttered.

"What's the matter?" he asked again.

"Russ called me. It's Dad. Russ told me to call you right away…"

"Are you at home?" He demanded sharply. "Did something happen to your Dad?"

The fear in his voice frightened Brennan all over again, making it hard for her to say anything intelligible. She heard Booth scrambling about and breathing fast.

"I'll be there in ten minutes, just hang on," he promised shortly. For the second time that night, the phone in her hand cut off abruptly.

"No, wait; you don't have to come over right now…" she said uselessly.

Brennan fumbled for her slippers in the darkness of her bedroom and shuffled to the closet to retrieve a robe. Throwing it on haphazardly, she headed for the kitchen and flipped on the light switch. The digital clock above the stove read 4:45 A.M. Too early to get up, but too late to try to get any more sleep after a phone call like this one.

Pulling a bag of grounds out of the refrigerator, she began going through the familiar process of brewing a pot of dark roast coffee, but she was so upset that she dropped the measuring spoon twice. Finally, after spreading coffee grounds all over the counter and spilling water on her robe, she managed to complete the task.

It wasn't long before she heard a knock at the door.

"Open the door, Bones," she heard him call out impatiently. Glancing at the clock above the stove again, she saw that it had only been eight minutes since she'd called him. Either he'd hit every light when it was green or he'd run the red ones. Her trembling hands finally cooperated and she got the door unlocked. Booth burst into her apartment and grasped her by the shoulders. She was so relieved to see him that she swayed in his hold, increasing his alarm.

"Russ just called. He said that something is going on with Dad. Someone made a threat against me and Russ—I didn't get who. He said that he and Dad were going to take care of things themselves—I hope that doesn't mean what I think it means. He wanted me to call you immediately, and he said for you to call him back as soon as possible. I don't know what to do, Booth, but I'm afraid that Russ and Dad are in danger," she blurted, talking so fast he could barely understand her.

"Okay, okay; at least you're all alive and unhurt. Give me the number so I can talk to him."

"I'll get my cell," she agreed, her voice shaking. He followed her into the kitchen where she'd dropped the phone on the counter.

"Last call received—here it is."

Booth dialed immediately. Bones felt calmer just having him here beside her. She studied him as he waited for Russ to pick up the line. In spite of having just been awakened and then driving like a madman across town in the middle of the night, he was collected and alert, his dark brown eyes sharp and his mouth set in a determined line. He'd know what to do, she had confidence. He'd keep her safe; she had complete trust in her sniper-trained FBI partner. They'd been working together for over four years now and she had learned to rely on his razor sharp instincts. Suddenly remembering how she must look, she pulled at her robe, only now realizing it wasn't even tied. Booth had the audacity to wink.

"Russ, it's Seeley Booth," he said into the phone, his tone and expression serious again.

She waited and anxiously watched Booth's face as he listened to Russ. At one point, as if he'd suddenly remembered she was still there, he looked at her and gave her a tiny smile of reassurance. The thoughtful gesture brought tears to her eyes.

"I will. Russ, let me help bring him in. Don't do this outside the proper channels of authority."

"No, I can't guarantee it," Booth said, responding to something Bones couldn't hear. "We've both seen enough from Max's former associates over the years to suspect that they have connections in the FBI, although I really hate to believe it. But you trust me, right? Let me help. We'll get the police to make an arrest. You don't want your father to do something that sends him back to prison."

He listened for a few more minutes.

"Look. Max doesn't need to worry about that. I'll do whatever it takes to protect her. You can take that to the bank. Okay; I'll be there. See you tomorrow. Stay safe, man."

"What did he say? Are he and Dad in danger? When Russ hung up earlier, it sounded like he was in trouble."

"I think you'd better sit down while I tell you what he said. This could get ugly, Bones; I'm not going to lie to you."

She sat down on the sofa and buried her face in her hands. Booth made a soft exclamation of sympathy as he sat down beside her and placed an arm on her shoulders. She stiffened; she couldn't handle his tenderness right now. If she gave into it she'd fall apart, she was sure of it. She shrugged his hand off. Undeterred, he grasped her knee and held her steady. Booth knew how to reach her without saying a word.

"There's no reason to get upset. Not yet, anyway."

"That's reassuring."

"About a week ago, your Dad made contact with an acquaintance he knew back in the days when he was involved in illegal activity. I don't know why or how it happened yet. We'll ask Max. But that's later. Right now the problem is that this old friend of your father's is a mean bastard who didn't take kindly to running into Max after all these years. He cornered your Dad behind a restaurant a few days ago and told him that he'd go after his children if he tried to contact him again."

"Surely my Dad didn't contact him after he said that?"

"No, but it sounds like this guy decided to go after Max's family anyway for old times' sake. He found out where Russ lives, waited for him to leave for work this morning and followed him. He tried to run him off the road on a two-lane stretch of Georgetown Pike."

"He tried to kill Russ?" Bones gasped. She jumped to her feet, too agitated to remain seated. Booth followed her as she strode across the room to the window. He stood close behind her, his strong presence registering on her consciousness as he continued to tell her what Russ had said.

"Bones, Russ talked to Dad and amazingly, the two of them decided to do the right thing this time and call the police. But even though the guy was arrested this morning, the police have already let him go and now he's disappeared. Russ and your Dad think they have a lead on where he's going and they're planning to go after him."

"They released him? Why?" She turned to face Booth.

"There wasn't enough evidence proving that his actions were deliberate to hold him. Besides, nobody got hurt, Bones."

"And my father, who has once again had his faith in our justice system shattered, is going to find him and kill him to protect his family. Oh, Booth. What if he kills Dad first? Or Russ? Booth, I want to know where they are." Placing her hands on his chest, she leaned her head against them. Booth's arms instinctively moved into place around her.

"They're close by. They decided the safest thing to do was check into a hotel for the night, rather than go home. Russ wants me to help apprehend the man so your Dad won't kill him. Apparently he had to really twist Max's arm to get him to call the police at all. Your father is afraid to tell the police the guy is living under an assumed identity because he'd have to give himself up too. He wants me to make sure he stays in custody. That way, everybody stays alive and all the Brennans stay out of jail. But first we have to find him before he gets to one of you. Russ has put me on bodyguard duty starting now. Tomorrow I'll help him and your Dad, but only after I drop you safely off at the Jeffersonian, where you are to stay put until I come back to get you after work."

Her head shot up. "What? That's why Russ woke me up? So you can babysit me? No thanks Booth; I can take care of myself."

Annoyed and upset, she pulled away from Booth and plopped down in her overstuffed rocking chair, kicking off her slippers and folding her bare feet underneath her. She wrapped her arms around herself defensively. Ignoring her pout, he dropped his leather jacket on the back of a chair and wandered into the kitchen.

"This smells great. Can I have a cup? You want some?"

Brennan sighed. "I might as well. It's almost time to get up anyway. There's cream in the fridge."

"You want cream and two spoons of sugar."

It was a confident statement rather than a question. She couldn't help warming up to having him here when he was in her kitchen fixing her coffee the way he knew she liked it. It was amazing to her how he knew so many of her habits. It was a rare thing for her to feel as comfortable with someone as she did with Seeley Booth. And although it was hard to admit it, even if only to herself, the fact that her big, strong FBI partner would be watching her back was a great comfort.

It would be light soon and she had the nagging feeling that since she was awake now, she ought to get showered and dressed for work, but Booth was already back and sitting opposite her on the couch, handing her a steaming mug of coffee. She decided the shower could wait. This could potentially be a rough day; taking a few minutes to relax with a hot drink was a good idea. She closed her eyes and let the steam steal over her face before she took a sip.

* * *

It was getting dark that evening when Brennan decided to call it a day at the Jeffersonian. Just as she was packing up bones from the latest project from Limbo, Booth bounded up onto the forensics platform looking as fresh as someone who hadn't been awakened two hours too early and then spent the day on the trail of a dangerous criminal. He peered over her shoulder curiously. Even though he didn't always follow her explanations, he took a great deal of interest in her work.

"So whose bones were they this time?"

Brennan carefully closed the lids to the clear containers and stacked them up. As she began to lift them, Booth stepped in and took two, leaving her with one. He followed her as she walked over to a forensics locker to put away the remains for the night.

"This person died at least thirty years ago, male, mid-twenties; the remains were recovered from a field near Harper's Ferry. But I only just started on this set. That's all I know so far. Okay, hand me the next container."

She stuck out her hands and he was careful to hand her the top box without jostling it too much.

"What did you find out from Russ and Dad today?"

"Well, you can rest assured that they are both in one piece. Come on, let me take you to dinner and I'll tell you what they told me."

He handed her the last box and she finished locking up. Turning to Booth, she looked as if she was considering his offer before she shook her head and headed for her office.

"That's okay, Booth. I've got leftovers from lunch to take home and eat. You can go through a drive-through and meet me there."

"Leftovers? Bones! You know you'd rather have hot Pad Thai then a cold, soggy burger." He flashed his charming grin at her.

Brennan gave him a sharp glance. "I don't remember telling you I had a burger for lunch."

"Lucky guess." As if he hadn't been out to lunch with her hundreds of times. He knew she loved the Royal Diner's burger plate.

"So—what do you say? Delicious Thai food prepared right before your eyes, or a box of greasy leftovers?" He smiled and winked. Her resolve began to crumble.

"Well I guess we have to eat somewhere. It might as well be at a restaurant."

"Great. I'll drive," Booth offered, waiting in anticipation for the usual objection.

"Okay," she said, surprising Booth with her passivity. Wait, what was wrong with her? She always sparred over the right to drive with him. He waited by the door, watching with concern, as she silently ducked into her office to retrieve her purse and jacket.

_To be continued in the next chapter where Booth continues to babysit Bones whether she likes it or not…_


	2. Chapter 2: Babysitting Bones

**Vigilante Justice**

_**From Chapter 1:**_

"_Well I guess we have to eat somewhere. It might as well be at a restaurant." _

"_Great. I'll drive," Booth offered, waiting in anticipation for the usual objection. _

"_Okay," she said, surprising Booth with her passivity. Wait, what was wrong with her? She always sparred over the right to drive with him. He waited by the door, watching with concern, as she silently ducked into her office to retrieve her purse and jacket. _

**Chapter 2: Babysitting Bones**

"Thanks for dinner, Booth."

Temperance Brennan leaned back in the passenger seat of Booth's SUV and smiled contentedly. He glanced over at her as he drove. The CD currently playing was soft jazz; Brennan had a hint of a smile on her lips. This was the closest to relaxed that Booth had seen her since early this morning when he'd sped to her apartment in response to her frightened call.

"At the risk of saying 'I told you so"—I told you this was a good idea."

"Yes, Booth. I remember. And you were quite right; I enjoyed it. My car is on the second level of the parking garage, over to the right." She pointed to direct him.

They were back at the Jeffersonian picking up Brennan's car. Booth pulled in smoothly next to Brennan's silver sports coupe and put his black SUV in park, waiting for her to get in and start her car. Most of the garage was rather dark even though flood lights streamed from all four corners. Russ's words of warning from earlier that day suddenly came back to darken Booth's mood. He wasn't about to drop her off at let her drive home alone.

"I'll follow you home and make sure you get in safely. Don't even try to talk me out of it. Until I get the 'all clear' from Russ, I'm your new bodyguard, 24-7." He stared her down, daring her to object.

She sighed dramatically. "I guess it would be pointless to argue. As long as you're driving me home, why don't you come up for a drink?"

Booth smiled. "I'd love to."

She backed out and took the ramp to the street, not looking back until she'd pulled out and was headed home. Glancing in her rear-view mirror she could see the silhouette of Booth's thick hair and strong shoulders as he tailed her. A streetlight illuminated his face for a split second, and even though she looked back to the road ahead and concentrated again on driving, the image remained burned in her brain. His deep-set eyes had flashed and she'd seen his features set with grim determination. He'd been light and charming during dinner, which had done more to lift her spirits than he would ever know, but that brief glimpse in the mirror revealed how utterly serious he was about watching over her. Brennan was instantly filled with an overpowering sense of gratitude, so much that she felt tears stinging behind her eyelids.

She tried to be a good friend, to be loyal to her circle of friends and family, but she felt like she often fell short. People just weren't her thing, and even the ones she'd die for she couldn't figure out how to really live with. She always ended up saying the wrong thing or being too focused on facts instead of feelings. She often had the painful sensation that she lived her life on the outside of other's lives, her nose pressed against the glass looking in. Instead she had become absorbed in her work, and while she was one of the best in her field and a well-known author, some days it was a cold substitute for human companionship.

Booth was the exception, although she had never understood why they clicked so well. They really shouldn't like each other. He was her polar opposite in so many ways. A self-proclaimed jock that could charm anyone he chose, he had natural charisma; everyone he met remembered him, especially women. Street-smart, intuitive, impatient and action-oriented, he should have been the last person on earth with whom she would become so attached. And yet she trusted Booth without reservation. She knew that even when they disagreed, he was on her side. He always defended her, protected her, cared about her feelings, and wanted to hear everything she had to say.

The information he'd related to her at dinner ran through her mind again and she was struck by how personally involved Booth was in this problem that was really her concern, not his. Although she also knew that wherever her safety was an issue she couldn't keep Booth away. And the truth was the thought of facing this situation alone was frightening.

Booth had spent the day holed up somewhere with Max. Her Dad had explained to Booth that he'd tried twice to remove himself from the circle of criminals that he'd gotten involved with shortly after his marriage and both times he'd fallen back in with them. The first time he and his family had assumed new identities and tried to start a new life; the second time he'd run with his wife into hiding, leaving Russ and Temperance behind in the hopes they would not be touched by the hornet's nest of trouble that dogged his steps.

_"So why did he make contact with this guy?" Brennan had asked Booth. After all Max had been through over the years, Brennan couldn't understand why he'd go looking for trouble._

_"The guy's name is Andrew Carson. He worked with the Deputy Director who…"_

_"Who my Dad gutted, hung on a pole and burned?"_

_"That's the one. Your Dad was having lunch with Russ when Carson walked into the restaurant and sat at a table near them. After Max stared for a while, Russ asked him what was up. Max pointed at the guy—I know, stupid, right? Of course Carson recognized him. For some reason, Max decides to go introduce himself and Russ too. Carson had already noticed him; maybe Max figured he might as well confront him or something. He finds out Carson is working at the FBI from the guy's lunch companion. Russ had to drag him out of there because he got visibly upset. Carson follows him out and has words with Max in the parking lot. Then yesterday Russ is run off the road."_

_"Was Russ with you and Dad today?"_

_"Max said he was recovering. But he also said he's not seriously hurt," Booth hastened to add when Bones' face filled with alarm.  
_

_Brennan had chewed on this information silently, wondering why Carson was threatened enough to attempt murder. Was he afraid of losing his job? Did her Dad know something from his criminal past that could implicate Carson?_

She parallel-parked at the curb in front of her apartment building and Booth pulled in directly behind her. He was at her side almost before she'd finished unfastening her seat-belt.

"Lock it," he commanded, as if she didn't get out of her car and lock it up on her own every night. Bones scowled in his direction, but he ignored it. He walked her into the building, his eyes darting into the shadows as he hurried her along, his arm draped possessively around her shoulders. Okay; maybe she could get used to this bodyguard stuff.

When they had gone inside her apartment and Booth had studiously locked and dead-bolted the door, Bones flopped on the couch. Booth flopped down next to her.

"Whoa. Long day. I need a drink. Didn't I hear something about a drink?" He hinted. He leaned his head on the back of the couch and looked over at her hopefully. His jean-covered legs were comfortably propped on the coffee table and his arms were spread along the back of the couch. He rolled his neck, trying to stretch the tight muscles. He certainly knew how to make himself at home.

"I thought you might like some of that Scotch you gave me for Christmas."

She got up and pulled a glass out of the cupboard. The sound of ice clattering into the glass made Booth sigh and close his eyes in anticipation. When she came out of the kitchen and handed him the drink, he had sunk several inches lower on the couch than before she gone in. This booze was going to have him snoring in minutes, she thought. She wanted a few more answers before that happened.

"Ah, the good stuff," he said approvingly after a slow sip. "I gave you this for Christmas? I have remarkably good taste."

"Yes, you do. Booth, you haven't told me yet where Dad and Russ are right now. They're still here in Washington, aren't they? What are they going to do?"

"I did some asking around today and learned that Carson has apparently cashed in on some leave time and left the city. Max thinks he knows where he went and he's determined to follow him and confront him. I feel like there's something Max isn't telling me, though."

"I have the same feeling. Booth, I think I'm going to take some leave, too. I have quite a bit saved up."

Booth sat up straight, his eyes wide with alarm in spite of how tired he was. He almost spilled his whiskey.

"And do what?"

"Keep Russ and Dad from doing something that will get them thrown in jail. Based on prior experiences, there's a good chance that Dad is planning to murder Carson."

"Yeah, that thought occurred to me, too. But Bones, I'm not letting you go after them. It's not safe. They have street smarts, at least. You don't. Hey; I'm not trying to put you down, but you know in your heart, I'm right," Booth explained when she angrily turned away from him.

Brennan left and went to pour herself a glass of whiskey in the kitchen. When she lingered out of sight long enough to cause Booth to get uneasy, he sat down his glass and went after her. Leaning with her back against the refrigerator, she watched him approach with hurt written all over her features.

"I'm sorry, Bones," he told her gently.

"No, you're not. And… you're right. There's nothing I can do except stay out of the way. But Booth, you could find them and stop them from doing something awful. I'm pretty sure my Dad has committed murder, but Russ hasn't. If they go through with this and kill Carson, it will change him, and I couldn't bear that."

The tinny sound of Tchaikovsky's ring tone came from the foyer where Brennan had dropped her cell phone. Handing her drink to Booth, she brushed past him and ran to answer it.

"Hello? Russ? Russ!" Booth came up behind her and watched her warily. She waited for a moment, and then pulled the phone away from her ear to look at the screen. Fear washed over her when she saw the connection had ended.

"Oh no!" She squeezed the phone with both hands and held it to her heart.

"What? What did he say?" Booth was in her face, demanding. Brennan took a shaky breath.

"He told me to stay near you, and that he and Dad know where Carson went and are going after him, and then he hung up. He sounded out of breath or something. Booth, something bad is going to happen; I just know it." Her voice shook with fear. Booth barely recognized this side of Brennan. It seemed that in this rare instance, Booth would have to be the logical one.

"Okay, let's stay calm and think this through. Max and Russ said they were planning to follow Carson on his way out of town. They were going to get him alone somewhere and have a talk. But he slipped out of town before they could get a bead on him."

"A talk? That's Dad-speak for "execution"," Brennan said bitterly.

"Hey. We don't know that for sure. So, think this through with me. First, how can we find out where they went?"

"Someone must know where he went. Is he married? Does he live with anyone? Maybe Caroline can help us."

"Good, Bones, Caroline is a good idea." Booth dialed his cell.

The grim possibilities that Russ's phone call had ignited were beginning to hit home on Bones. When she pulled away from Booth, too agitated to stand still, he jumped to his feet, caught up to her and pulled her securely against his side with one arm while waiting for his call to go through. He was giving her the permission she needed to lean on him for a little while. With a choking noise she clung to him. She wrapped both arms around his chest, her face buried in the soft cotton of his shirt collar.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered in her ear, his hand curved around the back of her head.

"Put me through to Caroline Julian," he commanded the person who answered his call. As he had expected, the office was still populated with employees. Everyone associated with Caroline worked late hours. In fact, the whole Justice Department never slept. While he was waiting to be connected to Caroline's extension, he rubbed Brennan's back with his free hand.

"One step at a time, okay Bones?"

She nodded without looking up. She remained where she was, silently huddled in the safe, warm juncture between his shoulder and neck.

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3: On the way to Deep Creek

**Vigilante Justice**

**From Chapter Two:**

"_It's going to be okay," he whispered in her ear, a hand around the back of her neck. _

**Chapter 3: On the Road to Deep Creek Lake**

It was getting late and Booth was feeling the strain of the events of the long day. Having told them to head for Deep Creek Lake in the mountains of western Maryland, Caroline called back with more information she'd managed to dig up on Andrew Carson after Booth and Bones were already on the road. Booth answered the phone while he drove. After listening for several minutes, Booth smiled at Bones.

"Thanks for checking out Carson for me, Caroline. I owe you," Booth said into his cell. He had Caroline on speaker.

"Yes, you do," Caroline replied with enthusiasm. "Don't worry; I'll think of something, you can be sure."

"Oh, I'm sure," Booth said dryly. "I haven't forgotten the price of a trailer for Bones' Dad last Christmas." Brennan glanced sharply at him and then tried to hide a sheepish grin.

"Tell me you minded," Caroline teased him, chuckling with delight.

"Okay, I admit it: I didn't mind. Not even a little bit. Thanks, Caroline." He was smiling broadly.

"My pleasure—now do me a favor and don't get shot or anything."

Booth hung up. Brennan was still watching him. Her features were alight with gratitude. Booth and she were driving down a country road in the middle of the night headed for Carson's summer house in Deep Creek Lake, and it dawned on her that he was doing it for her. It was about a four hour drive from the District. After Caroline had quizzed Carson's wife over the phone and then had somehow managed to look into his personnel file at the FBI—Caroline Julian had an astounding number of connections—she'd decided that his weekend chateau in Deep Creek was the best place to start looking for Andrew Carson—and consequently, Max and Russ.

"You didn't?"

"I didn't what?" Booth asked distractedly, navigating a sharp turn in the road that was continuing to take them deeper into the Appalachian Mountains.

"You didn't mind? When I made you kiss me?"

Surprised at the rare personal question Booth chanced a quick glance in her direction. She was picking lint from her jacket and frowning. It suddenly hit him that maybe she felt guilty for manipulating him into kissing her so she could get a favor from Caroline Julian.

"Are you kidding?" He replied with a laugh. "Of course I didn't mind. It was the best present I got last Christmas."

He winked in her direction and she relaxed. He thought back to the unexpected pleasure of the moment when she'd stepped up and planted one on him under the mistletoe in her office to please a capricious request from Caroline. It hadn't been just a quick peck on the lips, either. Once he'd realized she intended to prolong it, he'd kissed back with enthusiasm, fully aware that another chance like that might not come along for a while.

"Really?" She sounded as if she was not totally convinced.

He smiled. "Yeah, really." She turned her face away, but not before he saw her grin widely.

"What else did Caroline tell you about Carson?" She asked, neatly changing the subject.

"She said he worked for a private security company before he was hired by Kirby. He's a crack shot, a member of the Virginia Gun Collectors' Society, and a hunting enthusiast who spends a lot of time with his buddies in the Deep Creek Hunting Club. She thinks he sounds dangerous, but says his record is spotless. She wonders if he did the same thing as your father—came up with a new identity."

"What makes her think that?"

"She says there's very little information in his personnel file and she thinks that's weird. It's like it was scrubbed clean. And then there's the obvious: your Dad recognized him. Bones, try your Dad's cell again, and Russ."

"The last time I tried, both phones went straight to voice mail, but I'll try again." Booth patiently navigated the dark country road while he waited for her to get through to one of them. When she closed the phone and blew out a frustrated breath, his heart ached for her. As the miles had rolled past, he had watched her features grow more and more troubled as her genius mind probed all possible outcomes. She was torturing herself and it hurt to see it.

"Nothing. Their phones are turned off or out of cell range. Oh, Booth; I'm so angry with them. Dad should have called the police." She was so tense she couldn't sit still.

"They tried that, remember? I can't believe I'm going to say this, Bones, but this time I would have probably done the exact same thing as Max and Russ. Here's this guy, who he recognizes from his former criminal career, who has directly threatened to kill him and his children so Max won't blow his cover, but the police don't have anything substantive on him so they don't retain him. He was released within an hour of his arrest! And Caroline said his record is squeaky clean."

"But it's dangerous, not to mention illegal and wrong, for Russ and Dad to take this matter into their own hands. It's vigilante justice. They—we—shouldn't be doing this. On the other hand, I have to begrudgingly agree. If the police can't do anything to stop Carson, I don't see an alternative. This man won't be arrested until he actually commits a crime—potentially killing one of us. And even then, what if he manages to do it and he gets away with it? We have to stop him. But how? The only way I can see to stop him is to figure out how to get him put in jail for good, or kill him. And we can't kill him."

"We'll find your Dad and your brother, Bones. They're okay, do you hear me? They're okay. And then we'll find this guy and get to the bottom of his vendetta against the Brennan family, somehow. We'll come to an understanding with him; it's not out of the question. We have to, right? The alternative is not acceptable. There's got to be a way to handle this without killing someone."

A particularly sharp hairpin turn made him reach out an arm in front of Bones to brace her. When the car straightened out again, he tenderly brushed his hand across her leg. She stiffened.

"Right," she whispered and turned to look out into the night, where the dark ominous world was rushing dizzily past at sixty miles an hour. All the facets of her carefully regulated life had been in their assigned place and in order just twenty-four hours ago. Now it was all unraveling. She couldn't stop agonizing over what the next twenty-four hours might bring. The uncertainty was tearing her apart.

She was losing control.

Just when she felt like she was giving in to the darkness, she felt Booth's hand steal over hers and carefully grasp her fingers. The warmth and gentleness of his gesture undid her and the tears she'd been holding back all day began to fall.

"Aw, Bones; don't cry."

What was it about those two little words that made Brennan fall apart? She gulped desperately, breathed in harshly with noisy gasps, wrenched her hand from Booth's, turned away and struggled to rein in the tears, but nothing worked.

It slowly registered on her that the car had come to a stop. Booth surrounded her now, his arms and hands holding and soothing her in an effort to give what comfort he could.

"I shouldn't have said anything…" he began.

"It's not you," she cried. "It's just… you know I just found them again. All these years I thought I had no family, and then this unbelievable miracle happened to me. Russ and Dad came back into my life. And now I love them so much it hurts. I'll die if anything happens to them. But I'm so terrified that I'm going to lose them again. I guess it was too good to be true. Every morning since they have come back, I wake up and wonder if it was all a dream. I can't… I won't let this happen. But it is happening, no matter what I do. Why are they doing this? I don't know what to do." She dissolved into sobs.

Booth was too stunned to reply. Not sure he should even touch her, he sat back and watched helplessly. Her emotions, so rarely allowed any appearance, were exploding out of her like a dam bursting: despair, anger, terror. He was pretty sure she was even more frightened by her breakdown than he was. Her movements were like those of a drowning person flailing for a way to the surface. And as shaken as he felt seeing his strong, bold partner falling apart like this, he knew he had to put his shock aside and be there for her. More than ever before, she needed him, now when all her defenses lay in ruins.

"I'm right here," he assured her several times, cautiously moving in to hold her again, not sure what to expect. He was relieved when she didn't resist him.

"I-I c-can't do this," she said. She sounded angry and broken at the same time.

"Yes, you can. Come on, Bones, it's going to be okay. Don't pull away. Hold on to me. This is good for you to get it all out. Just cry. I've got you."

"But y-you said don't cry," she managed to point out, ever the literal scientist even in the throes of an emotional collapse.

"I was wrong, Bones. Sometimes you just need to let it out. And then you'll feel better and you'll be able to think clearly again."

"I'm a Doctor. I have a PhD for crying out loud." She was trembling so hard she could barely speak.

"Oh, so are PhDs too smart to cry?" Booth wiped the tears off her cheek, and then made a quick swipe at his own, only now aware that he had tears running down his face too.

"That does s-sound ridiculous," she had to concede. "Let me go. I need to get a tissue out of my purse."

She squirmed in his grasp and retrieved the tissue. Still in his embrace, she turned just far enough away so she could blow her nose, which she did thoroughly and unselfconsciously. The sight brought a tiny smile to Booth's lips.

"Feel better?"

"I'm fine."

She wasn't fine, but she was a lot better than a few moments ago. Recovering enough to sit up straight and breathe normally, she was beginning to show embarrassment over her outburst. Booth saw color bloom on her cheeks and knew instantly what was going on. The best thing for Bones, he knew from years of experience, was to not dwell, to move on to the next thing, and give her the time she needed to process what had just happened. He took a deep breath and put the car into drive.

"We have an hour or two left to go. I'm curious," he added as he stepped on the accelerator and pulled back out onto the highway. "When was the last time you slept, Bones?"

"Not since Russ woke me up when he called last night."

"I thought so. You're exhausted. Lay your head on my shoulder and try to sleep. We may not have many chances to rest in the next day or so."

"What about you?" she yawned, pillowing her cheek against the broad plane of his muscled shoulder. It was surprisingly comfortable. He smelled good too, an aromatic mixture of soap and leather.

"I'll manage. Just close your eyes, Bones. We have a couple hours of driving left and I want you to use every minute of that to sleep." His hand was back on her leg anchoring her firmly in place beside him as he navigated the winding road with the other.

"Okay,"she agreed.

She closed her eyes and within minutes was breathing at the deep steady rate of the unconscious. It wasn't long before they crossed the state line and entered Maryland. Only then did Booth dare to worry about what lay ahead in Deep Creek. There was a good chance that this situation might turn into a much worse nightmare than any of them could foresee. He desperately hoped everything would work out for the best, but he was afraid that Bones might be in for a lot more heartache.

After what he'd witnessed tonight, he realized that she wasn't nearly as strong as the confident, arrogant genius she projected to the world. He concentrated on driving and on keeping his shoulder steady for the woman sleeping against it. Booth had seen glimpses before, but her meltdown brought it home to him. Bones was acutely vulnerable when it came to her family. The trauma of her teenage years had left a wound that was still not healed, one that she protected fiercely and few of her companions ever saw. And tonight she'd opened that up to him, and he was honored by her trust. No matter what it took he intended to protect her. She meant way more to him than he cared to admit.

_To be continued…_

_This story is already planned out and mostly written, but I'm noticing that it is not attracting many readers. Do you want me to keep posting? There are 5, maybe 6 more posts to go. Of course I'll probably keep posting if even one reader is interested- I'm easy!_


	4. Chapter 4: Finding Russ and Max

**Vigilante Justice**

_Author's Notes: Well I got my "one" reviewer to keep writing this for… and a whole lot more! It was great hearing from all of you B&Bers out there. So awesome to see how much we are ALL obsessed with Booth and Bones! Let's go see what's happening in Deep Creek…_

**Chapter 4: Finding Dad and Russ**

Dawn was breaking across the eastern rim of the mountains as Booth came down off the ridge road and into the shadowed valley of Deep Creek Lake. Beautiful, green, and isolated, and yet close enough to DC to be a popular getaway, rambling villas lined the steep, forested shores on both sides of the water. The town itself was little more than a marina and a gas station with a grocery store attached, but though tiny it was picturesque and prosperous, thanks to big city money that flowed into the valley out of the pockets of D.C. area residents.

It was no wonder that an FBI Assistant Director like Andrew Carson had a vacation home here. A popular weekend destination among the powerful of DC, it was isolated enough to provide the perfect hideaway for a man with a former life to hide. Booth looked down at the address Caroline had found for him after a lot of digging. It was located several miles from the marina and gas station where he and Brennan were enjoying some coffee and doughnuts. After napping in the car for the last two hours, Bones looked a bit more rested, but not much. Booth was exhausted.

Brennan pulled out her phone and wearily placed another call to Russ. She sat up straight when this time someone answered. But it was not Russ; it was Max.

"Dad! It's Temperance. Why are you answering Russ's cell phone? Is he okay?"

Booth leaned in to hear what he could.

"Russ is asleep," they heard Max say. "He needs the rest. He was banged up pretty good when his car ran off the road. Where are you, sweetheart?"

"We're having breakfast in Deep Creek."

"Where?" His voice was excited.

"At the doughnut shop across from the marina—why?"

"I'm on my way."

Brennan looked at Booth after the call ended, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"They're here. I promise I'm not going to start crying again," she said with a wry grin, seeing the purely male dread on Booth's face. "Dad's on his way to meet us."

"That's great," Booth agreed. He suddenly looked infinitely weary as the adrenalin of the last twenty-four hours finally ebbed out of his system. Brennan finished her coffee, walked around to his side of the table and took him by the arm.

"We can wait in the car, Booth," she said, gently urging him out of the shop with an arm around his waist. They climbed into the car, Booth still grasping his half empty coffee cup. Bones took it out of his hands and put it in the cup holder.

"You need some rest, too," she observed. "As soon as Dad gets here and we find out what has happened since you last talked to him, let me check us into a motel so you can get some sleep."

"That sounds fantastic," he agreed longingly. "But where? I don't see a motel anywhere around here. Hey, look. That was quick. There's Max."

Across the parking lot, an old faded red Chevy sedan had pulled in and Max Brennan climbed out, looking around him cautiously as he walked toward Booth's car. From long years of habit, he always looked like he was evading someone. He climbed in the back seat, still looking around as if he might have been followed.

"Dad!" Bones exclaimed, leaning awkwardly through the gap in the front seats to give him a hug. He returned the embrace and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm so glad to see you," she said. Her eyes were shining suspiciously bright.

"Don't cry, baby girl," Max pleaded.

"Uh-uh! Don't tell her that," Booth said, waiting for the water works to begin.

"Booth," she hushed him. "Dad, how are you?"

"I'm fine now that I'm with you."

"Okay, how about we take the mutual admiration club somewhere else other than a public parking lot. I shouldn't have to remind you two that this is not a safe place to hang around, not the Brennans on a mob hit list."

"Russ and I have rented a cabin for the week. Follow me." He gave Brennan's arm another squeeze and then climbed out of the car, jogging back to his vehicle. Booth followed the red sedan down the valley highway to an overgrown dirt path. Once Max turned, his car was almost immediately swallowed from their view by the foliage.

"Great," Booth muttered to himself, gingerly following after him and cringing as he listened to multiple branches scratching along the side of his beloved vehicle.

"Do you hear that? Do you know how much that is going to cost me to fix? Max owes me for this," he grumbled at Brennan as they wound their way deeper into the wilds of Deep Creek Lake. The path widened into a clearing and they entered a sandy yard that ended at a circular drive. In front of them stood a small cabin almost obscured by vines and brush. Max had already parked and come up to Brennan's side of the car.

"Come on in," he told them. Booth stumbled along behind as they followed Max into the little house.

"We've rented this cabin for the week from some outfit called the Shenandoah Rustic Resort Company."

"Are they bankrupt?" Booth asked cheekily, staring at the rundown front porch and a pile of bricks that appeared to have tumbled down from the chimney.

"It's rustic," Max emphasized. "That's its charm."

"Oh yeah—charming," Booth wisecracked, following Max inside. Max chuckled and shook his head, turning to Bones. "Tempe, Russ is asleep in the back bedroom."

"Max, what are you planning to do here in Deep Creek?" Booth asked bluntly. He had already settled on the sofa with his legs sprawled out in front of him.

"We need to talk, I agree. But you and Tempe should get a few hours of sleep first. You can't keep going forever. I know where Carson is and he isn't likely to run in the next day or two. He thinks he's safe here." Max smirked.

"I'll let that slide until we've had some rest," Booth said. "Where?" He asked next, looking around the small dwelling.

"There's another bedroom in the back. You two take that; I'll stay out here on the couch."

It didn't seem to bother Max that he'd just sent Booth and Brennan back to the same bedroom. Booth barely noticed, either. He staggered into the room Max had indicated and all was quiet within a few minutes. Brennan turned to her father and glared.

"Now, don't go worrying yourself into hysterics, Tempe," he warned. "I know how you have to have everything all figured out before it even happens. It's going to work out; you'll see. We'll talk after you and Booth have had some sleep. Go on."

"Alright. I'm so glad you're okay, Dad," Brennan admitted. His expression softened. He stepped in front of her and cupped her face, kissing her forehead with infinite tenderness. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, peace seeping into her psyche for the first time since the whole awful ordeal had started.

"Go rest."

Just as she turned to go, the door to the other bedroom cracked open.

"Tempe?" Russ stood in the darkened bedroom doorway. His voice was hoarse and filled with pain. She turned, anxious to see her brother. He limped into the room, his eyes fixed on her, and didn't stop until he reached her. Wordlessly he hauled her into his arms and held tight.

"I was really scared for you," she whispered. She rubbed his back and let him hold on as long as he needed to.

"It's okay. We're all okay," he assured her.

She pulled back and took a long look at him.

"Are you sure nothing is broken?" she asked, disbelieving, looking him over. His face was badly scratched up, one eyebrow was split open and bruising and he was favoring his right arm.

"It looks worse than it is. The car rolled so I got thrown around a bit. I'll feel a lot better soon— but right now, everything hurts," he said. He sounded almost apologetic. He turned to the nearest armchair and with a barely stifled groan, carefully lowered himself into it. Brennan watched, her eyes filling with sympathy, and then went and knelt beside him.

"Promise me that you and Dad won't go anywhere or do anything until Booth and I wake up," she demanded in a trembling tone.

"We'll be right here, Tempe. Where am I going to go? I can hardly move. Don't worry so much. Hey, I'm really sorry that I upset you."

He gazed at his sister's pale face and tight expression. "Go get some sleep; we'll be here when you wake up, okay?"

"Okay." She stood and reluctantly made her way to the bedroom, looking back at Russ as if to make sure he hadn't vanished yet.

"Good night—morning; whatever," she mumbled before slipping into the back room.

Booth was sound asleep, just as she'd expected to find him, given how exhausted he was. He'd been asleep on his feet for the last hour. The sun was trying to filter in through the curtains so she went and pulled the shades all the way down. Kicking off her shoes, she carefully lowered herself onto the mattress next to Booth so as not to wake him. The pillow was soft; in her fatigued state it felt heavenly—so deep; so inviting. Her muscles sagged into the mattress as if every bone in her body was rejoicing to finally be resting.

Startling up into a sitting position from a deep sleep, it slowly dawned on her that what felt like a minute ago had actually been hours. Booth was asleep on his back with his arms and legs sprawled in every direction. One long leg was flopped across hers; that was probably what had disturbed her sleep.

She took her time looking at his face. Brown waves of thick hair framed his strong features. She admired the line of his jaw, his high forehead, his soft yet purely masculine lips. His physical symmetry was quite pleasing to the eye, something she had told him once as a compliment but he hadn't appeared to get it. Reaching out with one finger, she dared to lightly trace his collarbone. The memory replayed in her mind of Booth breaking out of the hospital with Hodgins and rescuing her just as Kenton was poised to kill her, and all with a broken collarbone from being in a bomb blast earlier that week. He was her hero, something she'd die before admitting out loud to him. He didn't need any encouragement, she thought wryly; he was cocky enough already.

He stirred but his eyes remained closed when she lightly touched his hair and took her time feeling its silky fullness. She'd wanted to touch his hair for a long time, and the urge had a tendency to strike at the most inappropriate moments. Like when she was standing behind him helping him interrogate a witness, or when they were poring over human remains in the lab. Now here was a stolen moment, free of any restrictions, that she was determined to make the most of. Leaving his hair, her fingers lightly glided down his cheeks, so feather-light she could just feel the soft stubble tickling beneath her finger pads. When she reached his lips she reached out with an index finger and hesitated, a millimeter away, wanting badly to trace along their contours but afraid she would wake him. But at the very moment when her fingertip made contact with the crease of his mouth, he shifted just far enough over to kiss it.

"You're awake," she whispered, dismayed, her cheeks burning.

"I was having a great dream," he whispered back, staring up at her, his eyes slowly focusing and sharpening into awareness. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

Instantly bashful, she started to sit up and move away from him, but his hands shot out and grasped her arms, holding her in place. With an irresistible pull, he began to close the gap between them. His eyes lit with an intensity that Bones wasn't ready for, and she froze. He suddenly realized what he was doing and let her go.

"Sorry. I don't think I'm completely awake yet." He sat up and turned away from her. After a moment, he looked at her, unsure what to say.

"Bones, I—"

"It's okay; I started it after all. You're very attractive. Let's just forget it. Come on."

"Why do I suddenly feel like the girl in this scene?" Booth asked, easing the discomfort between them with a joke.

"Booth!" She couldn't help laughing. "Come on; let's go talk with Dad and Russ."

Max was sitting in front of the fireplace with his glasses on, reading a newspaper. Russ was half-lying on the sofa, but he sat up when Booth and Brennan came into the room. Max put down his paper and took off his reading glasses.

"I hope you two are rested," he greeted them.

"Never better," Booth affirmed. Taking a seat next to Russ on the couch, he left the rocking chair for Bones.

"So… we have a problem." Booth said, cutting to the heart of the matter.

_To be continued_


	5. Chapter 5 The Past Revealed

**Vigilante Justice**

**Chapter 5: The Past Revealed**

_Author's Note: A bit of backstory, some according to the show and some fiction, and more importantly, how our characters react to it. And thank you guys for all the encouragement. You help me write faster!_

"Explain what is happening, Max, so we can understand why this guy wants to rub out your whole family," Booth requested.

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and watched Max attentively. Russ adjusted one of the sofa pillows under his head and sank back down into the couch, watching his Dad with an empty stare. Booth glanced at Bones. Her attention was fixed on her father and her expression was equally stony. He was reminded how much both of Max's offspring had suffered because of his criminal past.

"Tempe, Russ: I never meant for any of this to hurt you," Max started, but Booth waved his hand in dismissal.

"Just start at the beginning. Help all of us understand how this situation came to be."

Max nodded, considering how to begin. He looked up at the ceiling and stared, swallowing hard; remembering.

"When Ruth and I got married I had just started my second year teaching and Ruth was working for a bank. She had a co-worker at the bank who you know as Vince McVicar."

Brennan shuddered. Booth also had a visceral reaction to the name; he still wanted to bash the guy's head in.

"He and Ruthie hit it off and soon he started spending time with us outside of work. We became friends. He was friendly, well-liked—I never thought of him as hiding a sinister side, not in those days. One night when he was over for drinks after dinner he told us he had a business venture for us to consider. Well, Kyle—I mean Russ—was small and you were on the way, Tempe, and we were having a hard time paying the bills, so we listened to his proposal."

Max shifted and swallowed. His eyes were misty.

"And… I had debts from gambling," he said quickly.

Booth looked over at him sharply; a whole new understanding of why Max got involved in robbing banks was dawning on him. Apparently this wasn't a complete surprise to his children; they remained silent and impassive. He glanced at Bones, wishing she didn't have to listen to any more, wishing they didn't have to open up old wounds to get the story of Andrew Carson.

"At first, it was just a matter of Ruthie fudging bank records and siphoning funds off some of the bigger accounts. Then we began robbing banks in the next county. This wasn't as hard as you might think. Ruthie was the smart one. She'd managed to make copies of keys to several branches of the bank, figured out how to disable the security systems and we simply got inside after hours. She always was amazing with anything electronic. She could take apart and reassemble just about anything."

Booth stole another curious glance at Bones. She inherited more than just her mother's good looks, apparently.

"During this period of time, Vince introduced us to Andrew Brand, a security officer for a corporation in the city. He was involved in a scheme selling unregistered firearms to people who hadn't been able to get a legitimate gun permit. Ex-cons and stuff. He was impressed with how successful we were knocking off banks. He wanted Ruthie and me to break into the security company he worked for and steal money and documents out of his boss's safe. We did it, but the police launched a huge investigation into the matter, even suggesting a link to the recent rash of bank robberies, and Ruthie got scared. She wanted out. I agreed to tell Brand we were through.

But Brand said he'd kill us if we didn't keep working for him, because he had too much at stake to let us go. Well, that got me thinking. I snooped around on Brand and found out that his little arms dealing business wasn't so little. In fact, it was huge, and he had contacts in powerful places."

"Let me guess. An FBI agent named Kirby was one of them."

"You got it. And it was big money. Well, I knew then they wouldn't let us just walk away; they really would kill us. So we decided to hide. We changed our names and ran. We lived peacefully as the Brennans for a lot of years before Ruthie ran into McVicar again, but you know that part of the story."

Max stopped and looked at Bones. She was staring at the floor, her face ashen. She remembered that part of the story all too well: the foster homes, losing her parents, watching Russ drive out of her life. It was all his fault, and Max knew it. His lower lip trembled a little before he went on.

"When I saw Brand sitting in that restaurant a few days ago, and he saw me and recognized me, I was in shock, Booth. I thought my family and I were finally safe, and now we're back in the fire. I guess it's never over."

"Andrew Brand is now Andrew Carson of the FBI," Booth confirmed.

Max nodded. "And I'm assuming I'm one of the few people left alive that know that," he added.

"Do you think he's still involved in selling illegal firearms?" Russ asked.

"What difference does it make? He wants us dead so I can't hold what I know about his past over his head."

"But if he is, we may be able to find enough evidence to arrest him after all."

Bones stood up, crossed her arms defensively across her chest and walked to the window, her back to the others.

"So you and Mom just accidentally became safe crackers and bank robbers," she said in a deadly calm tone, staring out the window. She didn't turn around. Only her fingers, white from gripping her own arms, betrayed her anger.

"Did this all start because of a gambling problem?" Russ chimed in next from his prone position on the couch. "You decided that it was better to rob banks than stop gambling? We lost our parents and our home because you…" He trailed off, unable to finish.

"I had… I had stopped," Max whispered weakly.

"Tempe?" Russ said, painfully pulling his bruised body off the sofa and walking toward her, recognizing and seeing through her emotionless wall. "Are you okay?"

She turned away from her vigil at the window and faced him. Russ was drawn like a magnet to her pain, for it was his pain too. Reaching out, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her shoulder. After a moment, she raised her arms stiffly, awkwardly returning the hug.

Max, his head lowered in shame, slipped out through the front door as brother and sister clung to one another.

"I wish I'd stayed to take care of you, Tempe," Russ told her tearfully.

"You were just as hurt as me, Russ. Besides… it's behind us now." She pulled back and gazed at his face. This was her adored brother who she'd once admired so much. Why couldn't it have been different? Instead she'd lived most of her life without the support of a loving family. She'd missed a huge chunk of her brother's life; she'd missed out on having her big brother there when she needed male advice or brotherly support.

"Uh, I'll be back and let you two work this through," Booth said uncertainly, looking at Russ and Bones, feeling like he was intruding on something private. Bones spared him a nod and he gave her a tiny smile in answer.

He followed Max outside and found the older man sitting on the hood of his faded old Chevy. The wind was relentless and he was huddled against the chill. Pulling up his collar and jamming his hands in his jeans pockets for warmth, Booth wandered over to stand by his side.

"You're not him, Max," Booth said. "You're not the same person that you were back then. They know this; I'm sure of it."

"It doesn't matter," Max said sadly. "I will never be able to change what happened, nor can I make it better."

"No, you can't change the past," Booth agreed, his eyes far away.

How well he knew that lesson. He sat down next to Max. "None of us can. But you can live in the now. Russ and Temperance love you, Max. Bones told me she would rather die than lose you again. That's not something that's going to change because of anything you just said in there."

"They're upset, and they have every right to be. Go on inside, Booth. They both rely on you; you can talk to them. They don't want to see me right now."

"What are you going to do?"

Max was silent, but Booth had a pretty good guess as to where he was planning to go, and do, alone.

"You're thinking of going to Carson's villa alone and putting a bullet in him. Max. So not a good idea."

"Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of a knife or an axe," Max said. Booth grinned and shook his head at the older man's lame attempt at gallows humor.

"Hey. How about let's all go back inside and talk like adults. We'll come up with a plan and follow through with it. Russ and Tempe will be able to get past…the past. Just watch and see."

Booth got up and started walking back to the cabin.

"Are you coming?"

"In a minute."

Booth spun around and took a few steps back.

"Oh no, Max. I'm not leaving you out here to go running off to be the hero. We're doing this together."

At an impasse, the two men stared at each other. Max slid off the hood of the car and stood beside it, but didn't move any further.

The moment was redeemed by the appearance of Bones coming out onto the rickety front porch. She brushed against Booth's arm on her way down the wooden step and he gripped the railing in order to resist the urge to snatch her up and shield her from further injury. He was in full-blown overprotective mode. Unaware of his strong response to her appearance, she continued out into the yard and stood between him and Max.

"I wanted to make sure you're not planning on doing anything rash. Russ and I have a few questions we'd like to ask you. Come back inside, Dad; please?"

Max nodded and took a few steps toward her. "Are you sure?" He asked wearily.

"We're not mad at you, Dad. What's done is done. It all happened a long time ago. All Russ and I want is to resolve this current crisis and get on with our regular lives. Together as a family."

Booth gave Max a triumphant glance, silently communicating "I told you she'd come around." He knew his partner, and if she was anything, she was fiercely rational. And, in recent years, Booth had watched her slowly develop the ability to forgive.

"We've got to figure out what to do about Carson," Max said cautiously. He looked from Booth to Bones and together they walked back into the cabin.

The sun was high in the sky by the time the four had finished a late breakfast of cereal and fruit and were finishing up their coffee. Very little was said between them as they sat uneasily in the front room. The mood between the three Brennans was still decidedly cool. Russ and Bones had asked Max a few questions, but they had to do with how dangerous Carson could be expected to be and other aspects of the plan to corner Carson for a talk; the painful issues of the past remained unaddressed. Booth could see he was going to have to step in and move the plan forward.

"Bones, there's four bullet-proof vests out in my trunk, along with a set of two-way radios. Can you go get them? I'm not planning an assault, don't worry; these are just precautionary measures. Meanwhile, I'm going to see what Caroline can find out about Andrew Brand. He must have a criminal record from before he switched identities. Maybe we can find some concrete evidence to connect Andrew Brand to Andrew Carson."

"Approaching him will be where we take the biggest risk," Max said. "If we simply contact him, I believe he'll either run or come after one of us again. We need to get inside his villa and catch him by surprise. We need to go case the place so we know if he's alone or not."

"Don't you think breaking into his house and holding him hostage will decrease the chances of a successful negotiation?" Brennan asked.

Booth agreed. "Max, I say you and Russ simply go up to the front door of the house and knock. Bones and I will cover you from the yard until we're all sure it's safe to sit down together and have a talk. Bones is right; as much as possible, we need to take care not to threaten him. We want him to feel like he has some control so he'll strike a deal with you."

"When he sees Russ and I, he will feel threatened," Max predicted. "He'll know we went to a lot of trouble to find his location, and he will be paranoid that we're there to kill him."

"It can't hurt to try to approach him civilly. If he tries to run or turns violent, Bones and I will be watching your backs."

Booth looked at each of them in turn. Seeing no objections, he slapped a hand on his knee.

"Are we ready to go?" He asked with forced enthusiasm. Russ nodded reluctantly, his expression hard. Booth had to wonder what he was really thinking. Brennan shrugged her tacit approval.

"Let's do it," Max said.

_To be continued in Chapter 6: Hostage Negotiations_


	6. Chapter 6: Hostage Negotiations

**Vigilante Justice**

**Chapter 6: Hostage Negotiations**

"How are we going to cover Dad and Russ?" Bones asked, emphasizing the "we". She looked expectantly at her partner. She obviously wanted a gun. Booth sighed dramatically.

"Of course you want a gun. I brought an extra weapon or two. Wait here."

Within a minute he was back from his car toting a black duffel bag. Hoisting the heavy bag onto the table with a clatter, he unzipped it and began revealing its contents. Bones had seen his collection but approached the table anyway. Russ came up behind Booth, watching with his mouth hanging open.

"Wow, how many guns have you got in there?" Russ marveled, looking over Booth's shoulder. He was pulling out each piece and arranging them on the table top with the devotion of an artist at work.

"Well, I didn't know what I would need," he explained. Russ reached past Booth into the bag and pulled out the first weapon his hand landed on.

"FBI agent standard-issue Glock 23," he said, laying it on the table. "And a 27," Booth added, placing a smaller handgun next to the 23.

"And wow! This is an MP5?" Russ asked, impressed.

"I wasn't planning on using it," Booth replied. "I just like knowing it's close at hand."

"Why are you packing a military assault rifle with a long-range scope?"

"M-4. I've owned that one for a long time. I like having it with me," Booth said, shrugging.

"Four guns, ammo, vests…" Russ was taking a verbal inventory.

"Actually I've got another handgun in the glove compartment. I find that, with Bones as my partner, I always need to be prepared to arm her in dangerous situations that come up unexpectedly."

Bones smiled proudly at her brother.

"Honey, I didn't know you carried a weapon when you work with Booth," her father exclaimed.

"Why does she need a weapon when she's examining bones?" Max turned to ask Booth on the same breath.

"I'm a good shot," Brennan stated matter-of-factly.

"That's not the point," Max grumbled, clearly worried about her on the job in a way he never had before.

"She is a good shot, and Bones and I will be quite capable of covering you. Now, if you and Russ are ready to confront Carson, what are we waiting for? There's no time like the present. Let's get going, shall we?"

Andrew Carson's lakeside retreat was really more of a mansion than a cabin. Secluded and set high on a hill overlooking a branch of the main lake, everything about its construction was high-end. The wide circular drive was flagstone slate and the front door was a hand-carved work of art. The structure itself was two stories high with a wing to the west built at right angles to the main body of the house and joined by an ornate breezeway. A fountain flowed in front of the main entrance. Either he had inherited family money or he was heavily supplementing his modest FBI income. Booth suspected the latter.

Booth and the Brennans parked about 500 yards back on the sandy access road, hiding Max's sedan in the underbrush. Although they would have fit better in Booth's SUV, he couldn't stomach subjecting his beloved vehicle to any more marring by the low-hanging trees. Max's old wreck, on the other hand, was so beat up that a few more dents and scratches wouldn't even be noticed.

"Bones, take the 27," Booth instructed, handing her the lighter handgun. Stay back with me and we'll cover the front of the house from either side. Max, you and Russ just go up to the door like neighbors out for a stroll. Be prepared to grab his arms if he tries to run when he recognizes you."

"How do we know he's alone in there?" asked Bones. She had slipped on a bullet-proof vest and was struggling with the straps. Booth stepped up and finished the adjustments for her. She reached up and fastened the loose clips on his shoulders in return.

"We don't," Booth said. "There;" he said, patting her shoulders, " you're all set."

"How reassuring," Max mumbled as he and Russ set off down the path.

"Okay, Bones, check your two-way." Booth was already heading north just inside the tree line, but Bones could hear him clearly. Reaching into her vest pocket she depressed the button and called his name.

"Check. We're good," Booth confirmed over the radio. "Head south along the tree line until you can see the side of the house, then move in as close as you can without being seen."

"Ten-four, good buddy," Bones answered him, perfectly serious. He couldn't help but smile at how much Bones loved a good stake out. He moved quickly and silently into a position where he could see the side of the house, a good portion of the front yard and some of the back yard, a long, grassy slope that ended in the lake. He could also see a side view of Max and Russ walking up the porch steps. He couldn't see Bones, but he assumed she was in a similar position on the other side of the house. Good; he felt like whatever happened he was as ready for it as he could be.

Max was knocking, and Russ was standing back on the steps, watching with his hands crossed in front of him. After what felt like an interminable wait, the door opened outward toward Max, temporarily obscuring Booth's view of him. He moved a few quick steps to his left so Max was back in his line of sight.

The door slammed closed and Booth saw Max and Russ both split in opposite directions. They were running for the back yard. Carson must have been spooked to see them and ran. Booth sprang into action, coming out into the open and running along the edge of the yard so if Carson came his direction, he could cut him off.

The radio in his vest pocket blared to life.

"Booth, Carson just jumped out a first floor window. He's coming my way and he doesn't look like he intends to stop. What should I do?"

"Shoot at the ground in front of him. Don't hit him."

He heard the report of her gun a second later from the other side of the house. Running as fast as he could go, he swung around the chimney into Bones' side of the yard to find her holding Carson at gunpoint, his hands on top of his head. She looked fierce. Russ and Max caught up to them at the same moment. Carson, breathing hard, stood in the center of the circle, looking from one to the next like a cornered animal.

He looked to be a few years younger than Max, with a full head of wavy black hair touched with gray and striking blue eyes. A tall man with a well-toned build, he was indisputably handsome. Booth could imagine him being able to win the confidence of others easily. He was dressed in a dark blue polo shirt and pressed khakis. He turned this way and that, breathing fast, his eyes wide with fear and anger at the same time. It was a good bet that he was a man used to getting his way.

"We just want to go inside and talk," Booth said calmly. He held up his gun to show he'd replaced the safety and slipped it into his pocket. Nodding at Brennan, she quickly followed his lead. After a moment, Carson slowly slipped his hands down off his head.

"Keep your hands on your head," Booth demanded. He moved close enough to frisk him thoroughly. When he was finished, he stepped back, satisfied that the man was unarmed.

"Alright; lower your arms. Don't make any sudden moves. Take us inside."

Sighing and appearing to submit to Booth's demands, Carson began walking slowly toward the house with his four assailants behind. When he got to the junction of the circular drive and the path out to the highway, he suddenly jumped for Bones. He had obviously picked her as the weakest link, and he'd seen her put her hand gun in her pocket. He grabbed her by the neck, pinned her arms and swung her around in front of him. She yelped in surprise and her hands flew up to grab his arms. She coughed and choked when he tightened his grip.

"Let me go or I'll break her neck," he growled. The three men just stood and watched him saying nothing. None of them even reacted to his threat. Booth appeared to be suppressing a smile, which confused and infuriated Carson.

"I mean it, I'll… whoa!"

Bones had just been taking a minute to gain her footing. She bent over, twisted and freed her arms, swung him forward over her shoulder and threw him to the ground in front of her with a loud thud. The air was forced out of Carson's lungs with an audible whooshing sound. Booth was on the ground beside him in less than a second, slapping handcuffs on him while he gasped for breath.

"Now can we have that talk?" Booth asked, grinning. Bones, standing over Carson, glared at him with eyes that could kill. Booth couldn't stop smiling at her. Still gasping for breath and mad as a hornet, she dusted off her jeans and retreated to the front porch of Carson's mansion.

"That's my Tempe," Max murmured.

The inside of Carson's lakeside retreat was lavishly decorated. Booth sat Carson beside him on a cream leather sofa. Bones remained standing, while Max found a comfortable armchair and Russ perched on the arm of a sofa opposite. Carson, recovering from his encounter with Bones, looked genuinely frightened now.

"Bones, you and Russ make sure we're alone." Booth handed Russ his Glock as Bones pulled her hand gun out and held in front of her with both hands, just like Booth had taught her.

"You do know how to use that, right?" He asked Russ.

"Yes," Russ answered, a bit ruffled that Booth would think otherwise. With a nod at his sister, he and Bones went off to secure the rest of the house.

"Carson, I don't want to hurt you, and I'm not going to rat you out, either, but you need to leave me and my family alone. Why would I want to blow your cover? Think about it. I've got a lot to lose, too, if it gets out that I'm Max Keenan and not Matthew Brennan. We're both living different lives now. I'm willing to live and let live if you are."

Max was leaning forward in the armchair, earnestly appealing to the man in handcuffs before him. Carson's cheek was beginning to show the signs of a colorful bruise from his encounter with Tempe. Max concentrated on looking serious even though the thought of what had happened out on the front lawn made him want to burst out laughing.

"You think I'm going to agree to this just so next week you can string me up on a roof like Kirby?" Carson snarled.

"Hey, Max was tried for that and he was proven innocent. Kirby was more likely killed by one of your criminal friends," Booth said.

"Innocent, my ass," Carson spit out. "I know it was you, Max. That's your signature kill."

Booth glanced sharply at Max, a question in his eyes. Max just shook his head helplessly.

"All I want is for my family to be safe. You agree to that, and I'll leave you alone. I swear it."

Carson struggled against the cuffs. "Let me out of these first."

Russ and Bones came back into the room as Booth was unlocking Carson. Bones gave Booth a thumbs-up. The man rubbed his wrists, glared at Bones and stood up in the midst of them.

Russ returned the handgun to Booth. All eyes focused on Andrew Carson, who appeared somewhat calmer. He looked at Max for a long time before speaking.

"I came up here to decide what to do," he said. "After I ran into you last week, I knew you could destroy everything for me. I have a good life now, and I'd do just about anything to keep it that way. But I overreacted. It won't happen again." He glanced at Russ as he spoke, and though he wasn't admitting to anything, it almost sounded like an apology.

"But how do I know you won't turn me in as soon as you get back to town?"

"Because I can't prove anything. It's my word against yours without evidence. I want your word my family and I will be left alone, and I promise you in return that I won't come after you or divulge your true identity."

The veiled threat behind Max's promise was clear: he was not only saying he'd keep his secrets, but that he'd let Andrew Carson keep his life on the condition that he never threaten one of his own again. Russ got it and his eyes widened. Sometimes his Dad scared him, even now.

"I agree. Now please leave," Carson said, walking toward the front door to open it for them. "You have my word," he emphasized for Max's benefit.

Not quite believing it was over, Max and he regarded each other with wary stares as they filed out the door. Booth, ever the FBI agent, covered them all the way to their car, parked in the brush up the narrow lane. When everybody was back in the car and Max was on the way back to the main highway, Booth allowed himself to relax.

"Do you believe he will keep his promise?" Booth asked Max.

"The Andrew Brand I knew didn't put much stock in promises," he answered, "but I think we have him over a barrel. So, yes, I think he'll stick to the agreement. We've shown him a little bit of what we're capable of," Max added, glancing at Tempe.

"We'll see. Let's go home."

_To be continued…_


	7. Chapter 7 Home Again

**Vigilante Justice**

**Chapter 7: Home Again**

A week went by and thankfully all was quiet. They all began to hope that the problem had been resolved, although Max and Booth were doubtful that Carson could ever be trusted. Bones was able to spend time on some of the remains in Limbo for the first time in almost a month. Booth was assigned to a routine stake out in downtown DC, which by mid-week had turned out to be a false lead, so that by week's end he was cleaning up old files and bored out of his head. He managed to talk Rebecca into letting him have Parker for the whole weekend so he could take his son to the amusement park. So on Friday afternoon after he had picked up Parker for the weekend, he called Bones.

"Where are you?" He asked, hearing the distraction in her tone.

"I'm at the Jeffersonian, still working on this unknown war casualty," she said. "Why do you want to know?"

"Parker and I were hoping you were free for dinner," he said. Parker chimed in the background with a resounding "Yes!"

"Dad, Russ and I are meeting for dinner at The Wharf," she said, naming a popular downtown seafood restaurant. "Do you and Parker want to join us?"

"What time?"

"Seven."

About an hour later, the five of them were seated around a table overlooking the Potomac, Parker exclaiming over the boats he saw out on the water. It was a beautiful sight; after dark the boats were lit up and their reflections on the water sparkled in ever-changing patterns. Parker seemed to know a lot about different kinds of boats and kept them all entertained as they waited for their food by identifying each one that floated past.

"Do you know what an exceptional mind your son has, Booth?" Max said quietly so as not to be overheard by Parker, who was busy informing Bones all about the river traffic.

"Do you really think so, Max?" Booth replied, pleased.

"Absolutely. Have you considered enrolling him in that science camp next summer, the one I gave you the information on?" Max asked.

"Already done," Booth said quickly. "I gave the website to Rebecca and she enrolled him for two weeks in August. She put him in the Marine Sciences theme camp. Every two weeks the theme changes."

"That's perfect for him," Max agreed enthusiastically. "I have to admit, I've grown very attached to your son over this past semester. I hope he can continue to meet with me after school next year."

"He loves it. I don't know where he gets it from, but I seem to be raising a little squint," Booth joked.

"What's wrong with that?" Bones asked, picking a hushpuppy off Booth's plate and popping it into her mouth. Max and Booth turned to her, startled, not having expected her to overhear their conversation.

"Uh, nothing! It's great!" Booth back-peddled, putting an arm around Bones' shoulders and giving her an affectionate squeeze. Max smiled and shook his head. Parker pulled Max's reading glasses out of his pocket and put them on his nose.

"I'm a squint," he announced in an affected voice, looking at the appetizer on his plate like it was under a microscope lens. He'd obviously overheard their comments as well.

"Who taught him that?" Max asked dryly, eying Booth, who was acting overly innocent. Bones slapped at the hand on her shoulder.

"Ow!"

"Wimp."

Russ was quiet, reading the Washington Post off to the side, munching on hushpuppies. Bones rattled his paper.

"C'mon, Polo, stop ignoring us!" She popped up over the top of the newspaper with wide eyes and a silly smile.

"Tempe, I told you not to have another glass of wine," he complained. "Booth, you're going to have to drive her home tonight." They'd all come in separate cars and met up at the restaurant.

"No problem," Booth agreed quickly.

"I'm fine," she protested.

"Let me see that paper," Booth said, suddenly serious. Russ handed it over without a word, wearing a confused expression. Booth turned it over to the page he'd gotten a glimpse of while Russ was holding it.

"Look at this," Booth said. "Andrew Carson was fired from the FBI yesterday."

"What?" Suddenly everyone except Parker grew serious. He was building a fort on his plate using hushpuppies and gluing them with butter.

"Yeah, listen to this," Russ said. "A fifteen year employee of the FBI, Assistant Director Andrew Carson was asked to step down from his duties yesterday based on anonymous reports of suspicious activities conducted while in office. His boss told reporters that Carson was placed on administrative leave pending an investigation into alleged criminal dealings."

"Is he in custody?" Booth asked.

Russ read on. "No; he is just barred from reporting to work until the hearing."

"An anonymous report? Carson is going to think I broke my agreement," Max said. His face clouded with worry and fear.

"Maybe we should go talk to him," Bones suggested. "We can explain to him that we had nothing to do with his dismissal."

"He won't believe us. We're the likely suspects, I'm afraid," Russ explained to his sister.

"But since we know it wasn't one of us, then who could it have been? We need to find out who turned him in so we know what we're dealing with," Max said.

"More importantly, we're back on alert. If he thinks one of us broke the agreement, he won't hesitate to come after one or more of you, or send someone to do it for him," Booth pointed out, looking sternly at the Brennan family surrounding him.

The waitress arrived with their main course meals so the discussion was dropped for the time being. For a few minutes while everyone began to eat, Booth had a brief and rare feeling wash over him; almost like they were a normal family, eating out together and catching up on each other's day. Stealing a glance at Bones sitting beside him, he was touched to see her watching Parker enthusiastically eat his chicken fingers and mashed potatoes. He never ordered fish unless forced.

"Do you want my fries?" Bones asked him quietly, seated beside him picking at her plate, looking uninterested in eating.

"Thanks, Bones," he answered her just as softly, picking up a fry and munching on it. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Why, because I don't usually share my fries?"

"Well… yeah."

"I'm worried that this problem with Carson isn't over."

"I never thought it was," Booth replied. "I don't trust him. He sees Max as a threat; bottom line. Now that he knows all of us know who he was in the past, it's a good bet we're all on his bad list."

"But you were the one who thought we should negotiate with him and let him go," Max said, listening in.

"Yes, because the alternatives aren't options. Right, Max?" He asked pointedly. Max looked like he thought taking out Carson was a definite option. Frowning, the older man pushed his plate away.

"Could you bring us the check?" Tempe asked the waitress as she filled their glasses of iced tea. Max and Russ had both stopped eating and had been acting restless ever since Booth had found the article about Carson in the newspaper. The warm, fuzzy atmosphere that they had started their meal with had been replaced by edgy apprehension. Except for Parker, the mood had been ruined. He was still perky and full of smiles, an irrepressible ray of sunshine.

"Come home with me and Parker," Booth asked Bones softly. He helped her slip on her coat and then draped his arm around the back of her chair, staying close while she went through the expected process of clinically evaluating his offer.

"I shouldn't; he's going to want to spend some time with just you," she protested, nodding at the little boy who was currently trying to balance the salt shaker on one end. But her eyes had a longing light in them that Booth didn't miss.

"Believe me Bones; he always loves being with you. As do I. Come on; we'll watch a movie, have a glass of wine after Parker goes to bed…" he raised an eyebrow and gave her a charming grin.

"You're just worried about letting me go home alone now that we know Carson could be a danger again."

"That may have crossed my mind, Bones, but I'd be lying if I said that was my only motivation for inviting you over. I know you're more than capable of taking care of yourself; I just really want your company—just you. Please?"

Finally, her expression softened. "I'd like to spend some time with you, too," she confessed, surprising and delighting him. "I'll follow you back to your place."

It was past Parker's bedtime when they got back to Booth's apartment, and the boy was yawning in spite of his best efforts to appear wide awake. Booth swung him up on his back and trotted off to his room, leaving Bones to entertain herself in the living room for a few minutes. When Booth came back into the room, he found her at the window, watching the street before with a frown.

"Why the long face?"

"Long face?" She asked, confused. Her hand rose to her cheeks as if to feel whether they had elongated. Booth choked back a chuckle and put an arm around her shoulders.

"Sad, Bones; serious. Are you worried?"

"I'm worried about Dad and Russ, not so much for my own safety. The security at my apartment and at the Jeffersonian is quite good and I am quite able to defend myself."

"Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll get arrested."

"But until that happens, we all need to be very careful. You too, Booth." She gazed up at him, and he was surprised to see that she was worried about him, too.

Although he was aware how much she depended on him, on many levels, sometimes he felt like she took him for granted, and didn't really care about him beyond what he could do for her. There had been several moments over the years where he'd thought she was finally beginning to have feelings for him, only to find out the next day that she was involved with someone else. She'd gone out with a good number of other men since they'd become partners and he'd always acted like it didn't bother him; after all, they had a professional relationship and not a personal one. But it did bother him; it caused him to sit up at night thinking about how very much he wanted their relationship to go beyond the professional. It made him irritable too, so much so that he often sniped at Bones without really understanding why he was giving her a hard time.

But tonight, the look on her face, much to his delight, didn't have anything to do with the job. She was worried about him. And there was more in her expression than worry. He began to allow himself to hope that she cared for him the way he cared for her. His mind wandered back to the cabin at Deep Creek. They'd fallen asleep in the same bed. He'd been half asleep, but he still had a hazy memory of her touching his hair, his face, his lips. What had been going through her mind? What did she really feel for him? He was tired of not knowing. Since this whole nightmare with Andrew Carson had started, she'd been kind of clingy, rare behavior for his self-sufficient partner. He was ready to find out how much of that was fear and how much was evidence of deeper feelings that were beginning to surface at last.

"I know how to take care of myself," he reminded her, his arm still around her. They stared out into the dark street below.

"Of course you do. But anyone can be taken by surprise. Be careful, Booth. Please." Bones was staring at him again.

"I'm always careful," he assured her flippantly.

She twisted around and wrapped her arms around his waist. Before he could wonder what she was doing, she kissed his cheek, softly, warmly, with a lingering touch. Then she laid her head on his shoulder and held him even more tightly. Without hesitation his arms wound around her body and he held her close, and his mind filled with a strange euphoria. He wanted to ask her what was going on, because they were way beyond the familiar, but he didn't want to break the spell.

She lifted her head from his shoulder and their eyes met with a shock of new awareness. He waited, not breathing, as she moved closer. Her eyelashes flicked like silk against the skin of his cheek. He should say something, he thought vaguely. He should stop her before she did something he was pretty sure she'd regret later. She was under a lot of stress right now; she wasn't acting like herself. This wasn't them; they didn't do this.

On the other hand, maybe they did. Bones moved slowly, so slowly it was killing him, but she never stopped until her lips were moist against his in a delightful explosion of sensory overload. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he'd think about that later. Right now, he concentrated on the task at hand—making sure Bones knew how much he wanted this.

"Stay," he whispered without thinking. Capturing her lips again, he kissed her back with electric intensity.

"Booth," she murmured, indistinctly at first. He ignored her, lost in the pleasure of the moment. She struggled, cried out and tried to pull away. Where his elevated breathing was from arousal, hers seemed to be born of fear.

"What's wrong?" He couldn't seem to release her even though she was definitely resisting him.

"I shouldn't have done that; I'm sorry. I've ruined everything."

"What? What have you ruined? Bones, this doesn't change anything. Look at me. I'm glad you kissed me. Stay here tonight," he urged again, framing her face with his hands. He was saddened and bewildered to see tears forming in her eyes.

"I can't. I'm going home, Booth. I shouldn't have—I'm sorry. I'll, uh, I'll call you tomorrow…"

She pulled away and went straight to the door, grabbing her coat and handbag as she went. Booth stood at the window, trembling, long after the door had closed behind her, devastated by her reaction. He couldn't believe how badly he had misread her.

Down on the street in front of his apartment, Bones could barely unlock the car door but she finally managed to climb into the driver's seat. Collapsing behind the wheel, she started to turn the key in the ignition, but couldn't bring herself to leave yet.

What had she done? Her relationship with Booth was the most important thing in her life, and she'd just completely ruined it. These hard-to-control feelings for Booth had been secretly building for a long time, but up until now, she'd managed to keep them locked away. Except for that brief moment at the cabin when she'd given into a whim and touched his face and hair while he was sleeping. Bad idea. It had opened a door that she couldn't seem to close up again.

A daring thought entered her mind.

Why not?

Booth had seemed thrilled just now, clearly ready to move into a personal relationship and so sure it wouldn't mess up what they had. Could he be right? She never let herself fall in love with the men she dated. Love was a scary thing, something that worked out for others, but not her. But what she felt for Booth, and had felt for some time now, if she was honest, could only be described as love. Maybe she wasn't running from Booth out of respect for their job, but out of her own fear of love.

Biting her lip to still her tears, Bones deliberately put her car keys back into her pocket and got out of the car. Scared to death but for once following her much-guarded heart, she breathed deeply and began walking back to Booth's apartment. She had no idea what to say when she got there, but she hoped he'd help her with that. Booth always knew the right thing to say.

The back door to the apartment stairwell was just around the side of the building. She pulled out the key Booth had given her months ago and put it in the lock. This was it; there would be no turning back. But it only took her a split second to decide she was tired of denying her feelings, and that she owed it to Booth and herself to give this, to give them, a chance. She took another deep breath and turned the key.

A scraping sound behind her was all the warning she had before she heard an ominous voice terrifyingly close to her ear.

"Hello, Temperance."

_To be continued…_

_A/N: You KNEW this had to happen sometime. Stay tuned!_


	8. Chapter 8 Close Call

**Vigilante Justice**

_Author's Note: Thank you for the encouragement readers! Since I ALMOST feel bad for leaving you on the cliff, here's the next chapter, short and quick-like… more to come!_

**Chapter 8: Close Call**

Andrew Carson was ready for the feisty doctor this time. With the cold barrel of a handgun pressed against her skull, he moved carefully around to her side and clamped a damp cloth over her nose and mouth with an iron grip. Her struggle against the horrible odor was brief; within seconds, she collapsed in his arms. Her cell phone fell out of her coat pocket and onto the sidewalk with a clatter. Carson almost dropped his burden at the sound. Scooping up her phone, he tossed it into the small square of grass next to the curb.

With a grim smile he hooked his arms under her shoulders and dragged her into the dark alley. The alley opened up onto the street around the corner from Booth's, where Carson had parked his car. Breathing hard with exertion, the man looked cautiously in either direction before heaving Bones up onto his back with a loud grunt. He jogged the last few yards to his waiting vehicle. There he shoved her inert form into the back seat with considerable difficulty. After slamming the car door he leaned against it while he caught his breath. He turned his face so the light from the nearby bar wouldn't illuminate his features.

He didn't have a complicated plan. After being forced out of his job he was so mad he'd decided to wait for Agent Seeley Booth to come home, somehow subdue him with a rag soaked in ether, abduct and take him to a remote area and kill him. The plan got a lot better when Temperance Brennan fell into his trap instead. If he was going down, he was going to cause Max Keenan as much pain as he possibly could first.

"Everything okay?"

Carson went tense as a spring and turned to face the owner of George's Grill, standing in the doorway of his establishment wiping out a glass with a bar towel. Wiping the nervous sweat from his forehead, Carson gave the man a grin and tried to act natural.

"Just fine," he stuttered. He walked slowly around the car to the driver's side and began to get in.

"What's wrong with the lady?" George persisted, taking a few steps toward the sedan. "I saw you push her into your car."

Carson straightened and shrugged like he was embarrassed. "My girlfriend had a few too many. She's okay. I'm just taking her home."

"Really? Well, she wasn't in here, and I'm the only bar around for four blocks," the owner said. "Let me have a look at her. You sure she's not sick or something?"

"No, I was just leaving…. Really, she's just a little drunk…" Carson sputtered.

Side-stepping around Carson and walking over to the car window, George looked in and his eyes widened. Carson swiped at him to cut him off but it was too late.

"Hey, that's Dr. Brennan! What's Dr. Brennan doing in your car? Who are you? Sam!" He yelled behind him. "I need you out here. " George swung around. "She's not your girlfriend, buddy. Are you going to tell me what's going on, or do I call the police?"

Carson looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He turned to run back around to the driver's side but George gripped him by the arm. Wrenching out of his grasp, Carson managed to push him backward for a second, long enough to vault over the hood of the car and jump into the driver's seat. Fumbling with the keys, he frantically tried to start the ignition.

"Sam, help me open the back door!"

Luckily the car doors were unlocked. Carson made a fumbling move to depress the lock control but it was too late. George yanked open the back door and grabbed Brennan's ankles. Sam came around to help, reaching inside and grabbing her by the shoulders. Carson had the car started and in gear just as they managed to pull Bones' limp body clear. The car squealed away, George staring after it trying to memorize the plates.

"Dr. Brennan?" Sam was on the sidewalk, holding her in his lap, gently slapping her face to rouse her.

"Call Booth," she said faintly.

"What happened? Who was that guy?" George was on her other side.

"Do you want me to call the police on him?"

"Just call Agent Booth; he'll know what to do," she requested hoarsely. She struggled to open her eyes, her complexion ashen.

"I feel sick," she whispered. She reached around her aimlessly, her head tossing back and forth.

"Just relax, there, Dr. Brennan. George is inside calling Agent Booth right now."

The commotion was attracting a crowd from the bar. The owners and employees of George's Grill knew Bones and Booth well. The two partners were practically daily customers at the neighborhood bar and had helped George out with several tough situations over the years. Running inside, George pulled Booth's business card off the bulletin board in the entrance and dialed.

Booth was standing inside his apartment, staring at the door Bones had run out moments before, emotionally spent. He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid. He knew Bones; he knew that showing her how deep his feelings were would freak her out. Now it was too late; he couldn't take back what had happened between them. Sure, she'd initiated the kiss, but he'd grabbed it and run with it way down the track. He could only hope that somehow they could eventually recover the easy, familiar relationship they'd enjoyed up until tonight.

Going back to the window, he stared out at the curb where Bones was parked. It took him a minute, between the darkness and his own muddled mental state, for it to dawn on him that her car was still there.

She was still here? Booth's heart leaped in his chest. Maybe she was having second thoughts; maybe she was changing her mind. He peeked in the back bedroom to make sure Parker was sound asleep, grabbed the keys to the apartment and practically vaulted down the stairs.

Full of hope again, Booth was out at her car within moments. Perplexed to find it empty, he looked around to see where she could have gone. Either she'd be sitting in her car or she would have come back upstairs. Where else could she be? He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, hitting Bones' speed dial. Her ring tone sounded from the curb close behind him.

Whirling around, he found her phone in the tiny square of grass that he and his neighbors called "The Yard." Pouncing, he snatched it up and turned it off. He felt frozen inside, all the elation of a moment ago gone in one horrifying instant. Something had happened to her; there was no other explanation that fit the circumstances. And the most likely scenario centered around Andrew Carson. Booth sank to his knees, angry at himself for letting her out of his sight.

He should have taken that S.O.B. out when he had the chance, Booth thought furiously; he should have shot him before he could hurt someone else. Slipping her phone into his pocket, he pulled his own out to call Max. Before he could dial, the phone rang in his hands.

"Booth," he answered impatiently.

"Agent Booth, this is George's Bar and Grill. Dr. Brennan asked me to call you."

"Is she there?" He shouted.

"Yes, but she was attacked by a man outside the bar. She's not hurt that I can tell, but she seems to have been drugged or something."

"I'm on my way."

The guys at George's had helped Dr. Brennan inside to a seat in a quiet corner of the bar by the time Booth got there a few minutes later. Her head was beginning to clear but she still looked pale and quiet. Booth stormed inside, looked around frantically, and ran to her side when he spotted her with George.

"Bones! What happened?" He slid in beside her and with a strong pull encouraged her to lean against his side.

"It was Carson." She looked up, visibly relieved to see him.

"I figured as much. What did he do to you? I should have never let you leave alone. I'm sorry."

"It's my fault, Booth, not yours. I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings and he caught me by surprise." She closed her eyes. Booth began to worry again.

"Did he hurt you?"

"He knocked me out with something—ether, I think, from the smell of it."

"I'm going to take her home, George," he told the bar owner. Turning back to Bones, he said, "I left Parker alone. Do you feel up to walking home with me? Or do you want me to call Max or Russ to come drive you home?"

"No. We need to call them and tell them to watch out for Carson, but I want to go back to your place. You're right; Parker shouldn't be alone." She tried to stand up but ended up leaning heavily on Booth. Keeping an arm around her waist, he guided her out of the bar. George followed them out to the curb, talking.

"He tried to tell me Dr. Brennan was his drunk girlfriend. It's a good thing I already knew she was your girlfriend, Booth."

Booth hid his grin. That was news to him, especially after the encounter he'd had with her earlier tonight.

"You want me to call the police? I got a few numbers off his license plate, but not all of them. Here, take them, for what it's worth." He handed Booth a napkin with something scrawled across it.

"This is good work, George," Booth assured him. "We've arrested perps from partial plates before. Thanks, but don't worry about calling the police. I'll call my contacts at the FBI. We'll haul this guy in; don't worry."

"I know you will," George agreed proudly. Turning to Sam, they went back in, already talking in excited tones about the night's events.

A half hour later, things were almost calm again. Booth and Brennan had walked slowly back to his place. Parker remained sound asleep. Booth had finished making calls to Max, Russ and his contacts at FBI headquarters. Bones had wrapped herself in his fleece blanket and sat curled up in the overstuffed arm chair next to his couch. Booth brought her a steaming cup of tea and plopped down on the end of the couch nearest to her chair. She still looked a little wan. He took a long pull from his beer and slumped back with a deep sigh.

"How are you doing?" He asked. His eyes were tender as he looked her over.

"Better. Just really tired now. Did you warn Dad and Russ to be on the lookout for Carson?"

"Yes, I did. They're as safe as any of us can be until we find him and put a stop to this. Max wants us to meet them over breakfast at the diner tomorrow morning. At least we've got an APB out on his car and partial plates. Come on, Bones; go sleep in my room. You need to get some sleep."

"I hope this won't ruin Parker's time with you," she lamented, the thought having just occurred to her.

"I'll cross that bridge when we come to it. He's a tough little guy."

"Parker's a great kid. He's interested in a lot of different topics, quite intelligent and great with people, like you."

Bones made no move to get up and go to his bed, in spite of Booth's offer. It occurred to him that she might feel awkward about what had happened earlier that night between them. Maybe she thought he was offering to go to bed with her, and she was avoiding the subject. Feeling frustrated, awkward and wishing she was easier to read, he gestured at the couch he was sitting on.

"I'll sleep here on the couch. That means you're keeping me awake, Bones." He gave her a pointed glance.

"I am?" She asked, confused.

"Go to bed. You need some sleep and you're in no shape to drive yourself home. Besides, after what happened tonight, I can't let you go home alone."

He waved her away and stretched out on the couch with a heartfelt groan. As she rose to her feet and shuffled toward his bedroom, he called out, "there's a new toothbrush in the linen closet. Help yourself to whatever you need."

"Thank you, Booth," she replied. "Thank you for coming to get me tonight. You're right; I should never have left in the first place. I was… running away, and that was wrong."

"It's okay, Bones. Really; I think I understand. Let's talk about it after you've had some rest."

She gazed at him lovingly before she turned and disappeared into his bedroom.

_To be continued soon…!!_


	9. Chapter 9 Awakenings

**Vigilante Justice**

**Chapter 9 Awakenings**

The next time he opened his eyes the glowing numbers on his watch read five in the morning. Doing the math, he figured he'd managed to get four and a half hours of uninterrupted sleep. He wondered why he was awake at this hour of the morning though; Booth generally needed two alarm clocks to wake him up for work. Listening, he heard soft noises coming from his bedroom where he'd sent Bones for some sleep. After a minute, his curiosity got the better of him and he decided to go check it out.

"What are you doing?"

Bones was up and dressed, using the nightlight in the bathroom to brush her hair and apply a little makeup. She even had her shoes on. It was obvious she was planning to leave.

"Booth!" She said uneasily. "I was trying to not wake you." Turning to the bedside table she grabbed her earrings and necklace and slipped them into her handbag.

"Why are you sneaking out?"

Bones shrugged, not meeting his eyes.

"You've changed your mind, and you don't want to talk about it."

Booth grew angry as her intention became clear to him. He walked over to her, took her handbag out of her hands and tossed it behind them onto the bed. Keeping her wrists imprisoned in his clenched hands, he glared down into her eyes.

"Carson came very close to killing you last night. What if he is waiting out there for you? There are lots of places for him to hide between here and your apartment. Have you already forgotten the danger you were in last night? You don't have to do everything on your own. You have me. Why didn't you wake me up if you have to be somewhere? You said it last night: you're running again."

She stared down at her feet, her hands still firmly trapped in his, and something in her deflated. Booth's anger melted away at the sight of her acquiescence. Releasing her wrists, he placed his hands on her shoulders, still staring at her, trying to figure out what she was thinking.

"I didn't want to bother you," she said lamely, unsure what to do with her hands and finally allowing them to settle at Booth's waist.

"So you're leaving without telling me? Try to imagine how I would feel—what I would think—when I woke up and found you gone without a word of explanation. Look, whether you like it or not, you're one of the most important people in the world to me. You aren't a bother. I can think of lots of people who are, but you are not—and never will be—on that list."

"You're irritated with me right now," she protested.

"Actually, this isn't irritation. This is hurt. After all we've been through, I don't understand why you won't allow yourself to trust me, Bones."

"Of course I trust you," she protested, outraged. "You've saved my life more times than I can count."

"You don't trust my feelings for you," he stated bluntly. "You don't believe that I love you."

Booth sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling her down next to him.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," she said, her voice cracking. "You don't understand. I trust you, Booth; I do. But love is not trustworthy. A feeling based on biology and sexual attraction is temporary."

"What I feel for you is not based on biology and sexual attraction. I mean," he stuttered, "I am—very—attracted to you, but there are lots of women who I would call attractive. The thing I'm trying to say is I'm not drawn to any of them the way I am to you. It's you I love, everything about you, not just your physical appearance. I don't hide anything from you. I want to be with you all the time. Can you honestly say you don't feel the same way about me?"

She studied him uneasily. "You are very important to me," she hesitantly admitted.

"Glad to hear it. So what's the problem then?"

"I've known you for over five years, and while we make a great team and we have grown closer personally during that time, we've both had romantic relationships with other people that were great for a while and then fizzled out. Romantic relationships are not reliable. Remember Angela and Hodgins? They seemed to have something great, but that ended too."

"Well, I agree that it's tough for love to last. The truth is I have never had a great relationship. But I choose to believe that it's possible for a romantic relationship to be lifelong. What I do know is I have never felt for anyone the way I feel about you, Bones. That's the honest truth."

"The honest truth? How can you know that for sure?" Her tone was doubtful.

Booth dropped his head onto her shoulder and groaned loudly.

"Do you know how frustrating you are?"

"Okay; in evaluating my past relationships, I would also say I have never had a relationship with a man that was like what I have experienced with you."

"So," Booth growled, "Is that good or bad? Because I can't tell yet."

"When I figure it out I'll let you know."

Booth gasped for breath, his face contorting with a mixture of amusement and anger.

"I just bared my deepest thoughts and feelings for you and you're playing with me?" He glanced at her expression, which was now genuinely confused and a little frightened.

"No, Bones," he said, changing his mind, "I know you. You don't play games. You've lived through pure logic for so long you don't recognize your feelings for what they are. I can live with that. For now. But you need to figure them out, and soon, because this is driving me crazy."

"My feelings? Feelings are not important. Feelings are based on temporary fluctuations in brain chemicals. This is why I am skeptical when a man says he loves me when it's obvious he is just feeling amorous." She paused for a moment. He could see her thinking it through, her jaw tight, her brow crinkled.

"But there is a strong desire in me to spend time with you," she mused out loud. "I'm happy when we're together. To be honest, the thought of you spending time in a romantic way with another woman makes my stomach hurt. And when I think about what it would be like for you to walk out of my life, I feel… I feel…"

Booth grabbed her and filled in her loss for words with a forceful kiss fueled by frustration, impatience, and years of thwarted desire. She fought him for a few seconds, shocked by the unexpected assault, but then something inside her crumbled. As if she suddenly realized she was resisting the very thing that made her happier than anything else in the world, her arms wound around his broad back and shoulders and she abandoned herself to his kiss.

He felt it the moment she let go. Joy coursed through him. But he knew they weren't done with this conversation. And if they didn't resolve this, she'd be right back where she'd started: unwilling, or unable, to trust that this was real. With a heroic effort he broke off and struggled to organize his next thought.

"You're afraid I'm going to leave you, the way you were abandoned by your parents and then Russ. And you'll do anything to make sure you never feel that way again. Believe me I know. You've heard Sweets tell me that the things my father did to Jared and me have created "intimacy issues." "

"He's told us both that," she agreed.

" But we don't have to let the past control us, Bones. Right now, it's you and me, and there's nothing to be afraid of. I'm not going anywhere."

"Oh. I see."

"What? What do you see?" He took advantage of their rare closeness to push his luck. Just in case she talked herself out of this whole romantic thing he was going for it while he had the chance. He casually pushed a lock of her hair behind her shoulder. She shivered when his hand tickled the sensitive skin at the base of her jaw and he smiled triumphantly at the involuntary reaction. He slowly locked his fingers behind her neck.

"You and I were both abandoned as children; therefore we both know how important it is to feel loved, because we lived without it at a very crucial point in our development. We were both injured emotionally."

"Wow, you almost sound like Sweets there."

"Booth!"

"Sorry. Anyway; go on. I think you're onto something."

"I therefore believe that it is logical that we can trust and depend on each other, since we are both deeply aware of how painful it is to be betrayed by someone who says they love you. I can trust that you won't abandon me, because you are also afraid to be abandoned. And likewise, you can trust me for the same."

"Are you saying you love me back?" Booth probed, leaning his forehead against hers.

Tears glistened on her lower lashes. One spilled out and ran down her cheek. Chewing on her bottom lip, she seemed frozen, unable to respond. But she wasn't pulling away either; in fact, her arms were inexorably tightening around his waist. She seemed to be in a painful internal struggle. A wave of hurt for her swept over Booth. He'd gone too far and he could feel her closing down again. He swallowed bitterly.

"Shh," he soothed her, cradling her head against his shoulder. "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. I shouldn't have asked you that."

"You have every right to ask me," she replied. "You know, Sweets talked to me when I got back from Guatemala. He warned me that you were suffering after-effects from the coma, that for the six weeks I was away you went through a process of realizing we weren't married, but you maintained that you were still in love with me. He said it would go away, along with the other side effects."

"I know; he told me that too. This isn't a side effect. It's not just some mysterious feeling I woke up with."

"I am beginning to believe that. I wish I could be what you want me to be, but I don't think I can," she whispered, her voice breaking. Booth held her with steady arms, comforting her with his body and soft sounds.

"You don't have to be anything for me. Just stay exactly the way you are. I'm still going to be here unless you tell me to go. And you can take that any way you want, and you can choose to respond or not."

"Why are you being so understanding?" She cried.

"Because I'm perfect?" He said coyly.

She laughed through tears and he chuckled with her. Looking down at her familiar face, he wished this moment would last forever. Her eyes were shining like sapphires washed in tears, and she was staring at him so intensely he felt like a searchlight was blasting through him, lighting up every corner of his being.

"Why are you up so early? Do you really have to go somewhere?" The thought occurred to him that maybe she really did have an appointment or something. Bones was a busy woman.

"No, you were right. I was running away. I'm sorry, Booth."

"And now? Do you still feel like you need to run away from this? From me?"

"I'm not going to lie to you. I'm afraid that moving forward with our romantic feelings for one another will jeopardize the close working relationship that we have. And working with you—it's something I don't want to mess up."

"Of course not." He released her shoulders and got up. "You're probably right. I'm sorry I pushed you into something you're not ready for, Bones. Just… don't go anywhere alone, please? It's not safe."

He walked to the doorway of the bedroom before he turned and gazed back at her, his expression holding nothing back. Then he quietly pulled the door closed behind him. He left her sitting on the bed staring after him.

Settling back onto the couch, Booth knew trying to get any more sleep was a lost cause. He was way too wound up now. A million thoughts chased themselves around his mind and his body felt like he'd been through electric shock treatment. He forced himself to lie still with his eyes closed, but his fists were white with tension.

He hoped desperately he hadn't scared Bones away forever with his impulsive kiss. She had to have felt the impatient passion behind it. Way to go, Booth, he berated himself. He'd probably just proved her theory about hormones and brain chemicals and whatever it was she was always going on about. He started to flip over onto his side before he realized the couch was too narrow for that sort of movement. Miserable and on edge, he tried to relax enough to doze.

"Booth?"

His eyes flew open and he sat up halfway, turning toward the sound of her voice, which was very close to his ear. Was he dreaming?

"What?"

"Are you asleep?"

"Uh, that would be a no."

"Me either." She sat down on the coffee table next to him.

"Booth, I know we don't have to get up for at least two, maybe three hours, but I can't sleep now."

"I know how you feel."

When he sat up and made room for her next to him, she slid into the empty spot and crossed her arms as if she was protecting her inner self. After sitting there in silence for a few awkward minutes, Booth's face brightened.

"Hey, the diner opens at 6. Let's go get breakfast," he suggested with a grin. "Come on, I'll wake up Parker."

"Don't we have some issues to resolve first?"

"They can wait. It will all work out in time. Come on, Bones."

He grabbed her hand and tugged her into Parker's room.

_To be continued in Chapter 10: The Disappearance of Andrew Carson_

_**A/N:**__ This chapter was relationship-heavy because it just kept working its way into the story line. My take on Booth is that he is very much in love with Brennan and he is tired of waiting for her to get it. I really enjoy their interactions on the show and I try to remain true to the characters in my stories… but my favorite theme is exploring how B&B could end up getting together. Thanks for taking the time to read!_


	10. Chapter 10: A Disappearance

**Vigilante Justice**

_A/N: After a crazy week I am finally posting the next chapter… thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!_

**Chapter 10: The Disappearance of Andrew Carson**

"Hi, Booth. Is it quitting time already?"

Answering her cell phone while trying to put away her forensic instruments, Brennan couldn't suppress a pleased smile. For the last several weeks, Booth had called her at "quitting time" every night like clockwork, and she was beginning to use the phrase regularly. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gone home by herself. Booth drove her, met her at her front door or had her over to his place.

She hadn't even gone to the grocery store alone since the close call outside George's Grill last month. Angela had made her promise to go with her when she needed to shop, which had actually turned into a nice routine for both of them.

And everything had remained quiet. They were all beginning to relax and carry on with normal life without the constant fear that Carson was waiting to get one of them. For a few days, the papers carried the story of Carson's secret life of crime and his subsequent disappearance, and then, as is the nature of hot news, the story fell off the front page and out of the public eye. In spite of this Booth knew that the FBI was still working hard to locate the fugitive, but to his frustration the trail was now cold and no new leads had surfaced.

"Not only is it quitting time, but it's Friday night. How about we go paint the town red?"

"If by that you mean you'd like to go to George's, play darts and drink until we feel intoxicated, I'd have to say no. We did that last Friday night."

Booth chuckled. They had indeed, along with Cam, Angela, Jack, Lance and two interns. The music had been lively and the conversation had degenerated into a delightful exchange of corny jokes and stupid stories from their younger days.

"Well, it was fun, wasn't it?"

"It was great fun, Booth. I loved it. I just thought we could do something a little different."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Just dinner tonight, but tomorrow I'd love to drive to Ocean City and walk along the boardwalk. Maybe we could walk on the beach, too. I know it's too cold to go swimming, but I haven't seen the ocean in a long time. I don't know why but I have a yearning to see it again."

"That sounds perfect. It's a date."

"Wait—do you have Parker this weekend? Because he could come, too. They have a great little amusement park at the end of 10th Street, right on the water. I'm not sure it's open this time of year, but I can check, if you like."

"I don't have Parker this weekend. Rebecca and her boyfriend are taking him to visit her parents for the weekend."

Booth sounded a little melancholy. Even though he got to see Parker a lot, the weekends they were apart still got to him. Bones was suddenly glad she'd come up with this idea and asked him along, something she hadn't done very often in the past. But now… things were changing between them, getting closer, more intimate. A whole weekend without seeing him seemed like an eternity.

"So, dinner?" Booth said. "I'm downstairs, if you want me to take you to eat."

"Where downstairs?"

"I'm parked right next to your car in the parking deck."

She smiled. "I'm on my way."

When she walked out onto the level she was parked on, Booth saw her across the lot right away and his face brightened like a beacon. He stuck one hand in the air and waved once, then waited for her impatiently. When she got within ten yards of him, he met her half-way and grabbed her arm enthusiastically as he walked her to his car.

"Are you driving?" She asked. "Where are we eating?" She looked in the back seat and saw two bags that looked like groceries.

"I'm cooking," he announced excitedly. He gave her a sideways look, not sure what he reaction would be.

"Grilled cheese sandwiches?"

"Italian. Pasta. My aunt's recipe. You'll love it. Can we cook at your place? You have a better kitchen for that sort of thing."

Brennan snorted. She knew what he meant was she had basic herbs, spices, matching silverware, fresh lettuce and condiments other than ketchup.

"Sure, but only if I get to help cook the pasta."

"Deal."

"Have you talked to Max lately?" Brennan asked him as he pulled out of the parking deck. After taking a cursory look in both directions, he squealed out into traffic, wedging himself into a narrow opening between two cars and eliciting an angry honk.

"What do you mean by 'lately'?"

"Have you talked to my father on the phone in the last few days?" She clarified, shooting a suspicious glare at Booth. He was evading her question and she wondered why.

"Yes," he responded cryptically.

"What's going on?"

"Bones, nothing is going on. Why are you giving me the third degree? Yes, I talked to your Dad. What's so strange about that?" He turned a corner with a little too much enthusiasm and the tires screeched.

"I can't seem to reach him. Yesterday I went over to his apartment and nobody was there. He hasn't been at work, either. I'm concerned. Do you know where he is?"

"You went over to his apartment alone?" Booth's protective instincts flared. He'd been sure he hadn't let her out of his sight, but apparently she'd slipped out of his careful surveillance long enough to discover that Max was not around.

"Where is my father?" She demanded angrily. He could tell she was tired of him dancing around the truth. Booth sighed.

"He's out of town for a few days, but he'll be back on Monday. There's no reason to worry about him, Bones. He's fine. He and I are just doing a little legwork to make sure things stay quiet and safe for you and your family, that's all."

Booth was frowning now. He didn't like keeping secrets from her but he didn't want her getting upset when she found out what he and Max had been working on behind the scenes for these past few weeks.

"You didn't answer my question," she fumed.

"Look. He's working on something for me, Bones. It's a sensitive matter, but your Dad has skills in this area. I can't tell you anything more. Please, will you just let it go? Look, we're here. Help me carry in these bags, okay?"

"I want to talk more about it over dinner."

"Great," Booth muttered mostly to himself.

But when dinner was over and he had steered her back out the door and down the street to a local bar where live jazz was being featured, he was relieved that the subject had not come up again. Bones had apparently decided either she didn't want to know any more about her father's secret activities or she didn't want to fight with Booth. Either way, he was off the hook temporarily. They took seats near the back so they could still talk while the music played and Booth made sure he was right next to her.

"Dinner was good," she whispered to him, tapping a foot to the music. He smiled happily. Booth was shoulder to shoulder with her in the crowded bar and when she whispered in his ear, the shivery sensation had awakened the low-level longing he always felt when they were together. He draped an arm over her shoulders and stole a sideways glance at her face, lit up with enthusiasm. Her deep love of music was one if the things that he'd been surprised to learn and that he now loved about her.

A movement at the door to the establishment caught his eye. Looking over, he saw him standing just inside the door, watching. Not wanting Bones to look back, he avoided making eye contact with the latecomer.

"I'll be right back," he said in her ear, gesturing vaguely toward the restroom. She barely acknowledged his departure and continued to bob her head in time to the rhythmic strains of the band.

"Max," he greeted her father with a handshake. Latching onto his arm, he steered the older man out of Bones' line of sight and they slipped into a booth.

"I didn't expect you back so soon."

"Our business is taken care of," Max replied. He wiped a hand across his brow. "I flew in about an hour ago. Call me when you can talk and I'll tell you all about it. I'm going to go home now and give Tempe a call on her cell phone so she won't worry about me."

"Where are you going to say you've been?"

"I'll tell her I went to the Midwest visiting family. Her cousin from that family came to visit us last Christmas; she'll buy it. Go enjoy your date." Max nodded toward the bar where Tempe was seated and winked at Booth.

"Okay then. We'll talk later. Glad to see you home, safe and sound, Max. Good night."

Clapping him on the shoulder Booth stood and made his way back to enjoy the evening with his favorite person.

Not long after his encounter with Max, Bones' cell phone rang. When she hung up, he leaned over and asked loudly who it was. The music was getting louder and rowdier as the night progressed, making it hard to talk. Bones pointed to the exit. Ready to go, Booth rose and helped her put on her jacket. He followed her out to the dark street where a light fog was beginning to curl around the edges of the buildings.

"That was my Dad," she finally answered him when they could both talk in a normal tone of voice again.

Booth smiled as she filled him in on the conversation. It was obvious she had bought her Dad's story pretty easily; almost too easily. It almost appeared that Bones preferred not to delve into the matter too deeply.

"Come on; I'll drive you back to the Jeffersonian to pick up your car," he said, hooking an arm around hers.

"Are you going to follow me home again? Make sure I don't get kidnapped by bad guys?" She teased.

"Of course. The FBI is thorough."

Her answering smile made him feel guilty. If only she knew how very thorough he'd been on this case. But as far as he could help it, she'd never find out.


	11. Chapter 11 Ocean City

**Vigilante Justice**

**Chapter 11: Ocean City**

Drizzling, chilly and misty, Saturday morning was not off to a promising beginning for a day at the beach. Booth knocked at Bones' door before 7 AM, knowing she'd be up and preparing for the three hour drive to the coast.

"I'm just making you some coffee," she mumbled over her shoulder as he followed her in. He gave her an approving look: it wasn't often he got to see her dressed so casually, and yet he thought she looked more beautiful than ever. She was wearing faded denim cutoffs, a butter yellow sweatshirt faded and washed to touchable softness, and had a light blue windbreaker tied around her waist. Sunglasses hanging around her neck on a knotted rope completed her beach look.

"You might not need the sunglasses," Booth advised, thinking of the heavy mist outside.

"Well, just in case," Bones replied. She stirred sugar and cream into his coffee and handed him a generously sized travel mug. He usually took it black, but Bones always put something delicious in the coffee that made him willing to drink it the way she prepared it. After an appreciative slurp, he sat it down on the counter and wandered over to the couch where Bones' oversized bag was sitting open.

"Yum."

"I thought you might like to eat something on the drive down there," Brennan explained as she brushed her hair into a ponytail and fastened it.

"I'm all for food," he approved. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a wrapped loaf.

"Did you--?"

"It's banana nut bread. I had some over ripe bananas; I had to bake last night."

"When I have overripe bananas I throw them in the garbage," Booth quipped.

"Actually," Bones admitted with a sheepish smile, "so do I. But since we are going on a day trip, I decided to pull out the recipe book."

"I'm impressed," he said. He raised the bread to his face and sniffed appreciatively. "I'm suddenly feeling hungry."

"You can have some in the car; I'll drive first. Let's go."

Booth wasted no time helping himself to a slice of banana bread as soon as they were underway. The smell of coffee and warm bread filled the car. Booth sighed happily.

"Maybe we should just stay down at the shore," he said.

"Do you always get like this on a trip?"

"What do you mean?" He licked his fingers and helped himself to another warm, gooey slice.

"I remember when you went to the Caribbean on a vacation by yourself several years ago. You said you might not come back home. Are you always tempted to run away when you are vacationing?"

Booth thought about it for a few minutes before responding. The look on his face was dreamy.

"Don't you ever want to run away from all the stress and strain of your work? All those long hours, the lack of sleep, the pain of dealing with bereaved families; haven't you ever been tempted to just dump it and live a life of pleasure on a tropical island somewhere?"

"No," she answered with straightforward honesty.

"Really?" He sat up straight in mid-chew.

"I am living the life I always dreamed of right now, Booth. I love what I do, both in the lab as well as my career as an author. Sure, a tropical paradise would be fun for a week or two, but I know you pretty well by now. You'd get bored and then you'd get cranky. You need something significant to do with your life, just as I do."

"Not a chance," he protested weakly, although he knew she was right. "Cranky? Why would you think I'd get cranky? I never get cranky… do I?"

"Booth," she said with a chuckle, "you definitely can be cranky sometimes."

"Yeah, maybe." He started to say something, thought better of it and pursed his lips.

"Yes, Booth, I can be cranky too sometimes."

Booth took a long drink of his now lukewarm coffee. "I'm glad you can admit it, Bones," he said.

"Booth, I'm glad we're getting away, even if we do have to go back to our real lives on Monday. I haven't been down to the shore since I was a kid. I can't wait to see the ocean. I mean I've seen lots of oceans, all over the world… but Ocean City is different. For a few hours I get to be a kid again, and eat greasy pizza, cotton candy and saltwater taffy. Oh! We always bought a box kite and flew it out on the beach because the breeze is so strong. Can we buy a kite, Booth?"

He laughed. "Of course. It wouldn't be Ocean City without a kite. If it doesn't rain all day, that is."

The day was growing gloomier and fat drops of rain had begun to escape from the threatening clouds overhead. Bones waved her hand dismissively.

"We'll find something fun to do whether it rains or not," she predicted with glee. "Here's the Bay Bridge," she announced, slowing down to pay the toll. When she rolled her window up and got back up to the speed limit, she glanced over at Booth.

"I was wondering something," she began in a tone that instantly alerted Booth that her next comment would not be small talk. He watched her steadily, and he hoped with an encouraging expression.

"What?"

"Did you really mean what you said the other night? Do remember how you told me that you like me just the way I am?" The car swerved just a little in the lane. Bones gripped the wheel with both hands and forced herself to concentrate on driving, but the action betrayed her nervousness.

"I didn't say I liked you the way you are. I said I love you just the way you are."

"You love me but you don't like me?"

Coming from anyone else, Booth would have thought that response was flippant, but Bones was genuinely confused. It was just another trait in a long line of reasons why he loved her so much.

"Of course I like you. I meant that I feel more for you than just liking. Understand?"

"I think so," she replied, chewing her bottom lip.

"So, you love me," she repeated cautiously.

"Yeah," Booth said firmly. "Hey, Bones, we don't have to talk about this right now. Let's just go to the shore, have fun and enjoy ourselves. It's been a rough few weeks; let's just relax."

The road went from four lanes to two lanes and the dark sky suddenly began to lighten. The rain stopped. Booth began to hope the weather would be on their side, just this once, so they could have a perfect day together. There were fewer cars on the road and the rural landscape on either side lulled them both into a sense of being far away from everything. During the summer months, this road was bumper to bumper, but this time of year they practically had the highway all to themselves. Booth's head drooped against the side of the car. Within minutes, he had dozed off.

"Wake up, Booth. We're here." Her voice sounded far away. Sitting up he shook his head a little and blinked.

"I'm awake," he mumbled.

"Come on; let's go see the ocean." Bones sounded like a little girl again. Booth headed toward the steps up to the boardwalk. A brisk breeze and a few patchy clouds were all that remained of the storm. Feeling sand under his shoes, Booth kicked them off. Bones did the same and they left their shoes together in a corner on the boardwalk.

"Wait for me!"

Bones was already at the water's edge, kicking up the foam with bare feet. A wave splashed at her legs and she paused to roll up the legs of her jeans. Another wave splashed up onto the rolled up part and she laughed. Eyes shining with pleasure and hair blowing in the wind, she looked adorable. Booth could hardly breathe. With a big smile, he caught up to her and took her by the hand.

"This was a good idea," he said. "It's almost sunny!" Booth pointed at a bright cloud. "Are you warm enough?"

"I wouldn't object to being a little warmer." She pulled him closer and wrapped one arm around his waist. "It's colder now than when we first got here, probably because my clothes are wet."

"Ya think?" They strolled along the edge of the water, taking care to above the level of the waves. They both sighed contentedly when the sun managed to free itself from the clouds and they were engulfed in its bright rays. Pulling on his arm, Bones climbed up the dune a few feet and plopped down on the sand, dragging Booth with her. Somehow he ended up with his head in her lap, staring up at the sky, laughing. Gulls flew overhead and their piercing cries filled the air. Bones slowly sank back until she too was lying down in the sand. She reached down at the same instant he reached up. Their hands joined.

"Looking out over the ocean makes me feel like a speck; even tinier than a speck. It's a good thing to remind ourselves once and a while how big the universe is."

Booth closed his eyes. He wasn't thinking about anything beyond how great it felt to hold her hand.

"What do you feel when you look up at the infinite sky, or gaze out over the horizon? That's the edge of the planet, right there," she pointed. "It makes me feel like I'm part of something grand and amazing."

"It makes me feel hungry. Let's go get something to eat on the boardwalk." He hauled her up off the sand and brushed her off with such enthusiasm she began giggling.

"Careful there," she protested, stepping away. He took a step at the same moment and continued brushing down the backs of her legs.

"Wow, you have sand everywhere."

"Well, so do you," she replied, turning on him and swiping her hands down his back, his stomach, his arms and legs until Booth was laughing and running away from her too. She chased after him until he tripped in the sand and they both went down in a pile. Sand once again was all over them. Booth grabbed her and helped her back up, taking the opportunity to hug her around the waist for a few lovely seconds.

"Come on." They ran back to retrieve their shoes and see what the boardwalk had to offer.

By afternoon the sun had come out full force and their noses and shoulders were turning pink. They had collapsed onto a bench with cherry snow cones. Booth had a kite, recently purchased, tucked under his arm. They had spent over an hour running up and down the beach flying it.

"Whoa," Booth exclaimed. "Brain freeze."

"You eat too fast," Bones reproved. "Watch. Take little bites." She demonstrated her superior method of eating a snow cone.

"Give me a bite? Mine's gone."

She hesitated, looking into her bright red treat and looking back at him, considering whether she really wanted to share. Booth gave her his puppy dog eyes.

"That's not fair," she said, ladling a spoonful into his mouth.

"Oh, yes, that's good." He tried to grab the spoon away from her to get more.

"Patience," she counseled, holding the next bite just out of reach before giving it to him. But when he grabbed for the paper cup again, she gave it to him, spoon and all. They'd eaten so much junk already she just wasn't hungry enough to fight for her snow cone rights. With a sigh she slumped against the back of the bench.

"We should get on the road soon, she pointed out. It's almost five. I don't want to go home yet, Booth. This was really a good day. The best, actually. Thanks for coming with me."

"My pleasure, Bones. I'm glad you asked. Hey. We could stay for dinner?"

"No, you look sunburned and tired and I have to be at work early tomorrow. Angela and I are putting the finishing touches on a new computer modeling program and we want to show it to Cam ASAP. I am going in around seven. Booth, are you going to insist on escorting me to work again?"

"No, I will be asleep," he announced firmly, drinking the last few drips of snow cone, balling up the paper cup and tossing it into the nearby trashcan.

"Really? You're not going to be my bodyguard any more?"

"That's right. Hey, it's been quiet for weeks. I think we're in the clear."

Standing, he pointed down the boardwalk in the direction of their car. As they walked, Bones was quiet and her forehead was wrinkled in that way that Booth knew meant she was bothered by something. After long minutes of silence, he sighed loudly and stopped to face her.

"What?"

"You've been watching me around the clock for weeks, and now you're just going to stop, just like that. I don't understand. You know something, Booth, something that you're not telling me. "

_To be continued_…

_Kind of a fluffy chapter, but now it's back to reality!_


	12. Chapter 12

**Vigilante Justice**

_**From Chapter 11:**_

"_Really? You're not going to be my bodyguard any more?"_

"_That's right. Hey, it's been quiet for weeks. I think we're in the clear."_

_Standing, he pointed down the boardwalk in the direction of their car. As they walked, Bones was quiet and her forehead was wrinkled in that way that Booth knew meant she was bothered by something. After long minutes of silence, he sighed loudly and stopped to face her._

"_What?"_

"_You've been watching me around the clock for weeks, and now you're just going to stop, just like that. I don't understand. You know something, Booth, something that you're not telling me. "_

**Chapter 12**

"No, Bones; I just have a good hunch, that's all. The FBI feels sure that Andrew Carson has left the country. There's been no activity on his personal accounts. He and his wife kept separate accounts and credit cards, which has made it easy to watch for activity. Turns out they've been secretly separated for almost six months. A large withdrawal was made electronically on one of his money market accounts about three weeks ago; since then, nothing. My hunch is that he's living on the cash somewhere out of the country. You trust my hunches, right?"

He opened the passenger door for her and then jogged around to his side. Slipping behind the wheel, he backed out of the parking lot and turned onto the highway.

"Yes," Brennan said once they were on the road, "I have learned to trust that when you have a hunch, as you call it, you are subconsciously putting all your senses and experiences together to come up with a conclusion that is usually correct. But in this case, I don't think this is just a hunch, Booth. You have always been extremely over-protective of me. I believe you would continue to watch over me unless you had information more concrete than just your gut feelings. And with Dad having been gone a few days last week without telling me where he was, I am suspicious."

"Well, what I just told you is concrete evidence." Booth sounded defensive. His hands tightened on the steering wheel.

"Do you know where my Dad went last week? He has been avoiding me."

"Look, Bones, he didn't kill Carson, if that's what you're implying. He told me he was going down to the Cayman Islands to follow a lead. Carson used to have a cottage down there, and he wanted to see if he still owned the place. He was checking to see if Carson was hiding out down there. He's wanted by the police now, you know. The ironic thing is he went after you and your family to protect his new life; instead, he ended up dismantling it."

"Was he there?" Bones asked softly, steel behind her words.

"Carson? Max found the address but the house was empty. There was evidence of recent occupation, so Max thinks Carson is hiding out down there somewhere he can't be traced. The house was Spartan; it looked like he cleaned out what he needed from his cottage and left. What makes me sure he is no longer a threat is he would be caught as soon as he tried to re-enter the country, Bones. He's down there for good, in my opinion."

"Why didn't you tell me all this earlier? Why hide it from me?"

"Max didn't want you to worry about him when he went down there. It was stupid; I should have told you. I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

She was silent, processing what Booth had just told her.

"Is the FBI going to pursue Carson further?"

"Of course. He's a wanted man. I won't be personally on the case, but I'm planning on staying in the loop on it. If anything changes I'll tell you; I promise."

"Thank you, Booth." Brennan fell silent. Booth shot a few worried glances her way as he drove, but she seemed to be through with the subject. But the way she stared out the window, he knew it was still very much on her mind.

Monday morning was back to the real world. Booth dragged into his office at the FBI building clutching a paper cup of black coffee and an umbrella. Shaking the rain off his coat, he threw the coat and umbrella into the empty chair and slumped behind his desk. He had barely sat down when his cell phone buzzed in his coat pocket and he jumped up, ran to the chair and fished it out.

"Booth," he answered breathlessly. "Damn it."

"What?" Bones' voice rang out.

"I spilled my coffee. It was pretty bad coffee anyway. What's up, Bones?"

"Do you know anything about the remains sent over here from the FBI this morning?"

"You'll have to be more specific than that."

"Male, mid-sixties, assumed drowning victim because he washed up on the rocks at the bottom of a bluff on Cayman Brac. Very little flesh. Probably died two to three weeks ago. About the same time frame when you and Dad stopped watching my every move. Could it be Carson?"

"I have no idea. Are you jumping to conclusions, Bones?" He sounded shocked.

"How many persons of interest to the FBI could have washed up on a beach in the Caymans?"

"Wow, Bones; you really don't get out much."

"Booth, I want to talk to you. In person. Now."

She sounded upset and angry. Booth knew he had no choice.

"On my way."

The atmosphere in the Jeffersonian was electric. Brennan had every squint available working on the remains that the FBI had recovered in the Cayman Islands. Angela and Jack were going over Carson's medical records, looking for anything that might be useful in identifying the skeleton currently laid out on the forensics platform. Booth felt a jolt of unease shoot down his spine when he saw how much energy Brennan was directing at identifying these remains. Walking over to the edge of the platform, he gazed at her until she noticed him. Waving his fingers, he gestured for her to take a break and talk to him.

"Booth," she greeted him grimly. She bounded down the steps, swept past him and stalked toward her office with him jogging in her wake. A few glances of sympathy from some of the lab rats he knew only served to heighten his apprehension.

Shutting the door behind them, she turned on him with venom.

"It's Carson," she said, pointing back toward the remains. "We haven't established cause of death yet, but it sure doesn't appear to have been natural causes." She looked like she wanted to say something else but she pursed her lips and fought to hold back tears. Booth looked through the glass windows at the lab all around them and then deliberately closed the blinds. Turning back to Brennan, he took her by the elbows and forced her to look at him face to face.

"You have a positive ID?"

"Would I tell you it's Carson if we didn't?" Her tone was venomous.

"Bones? Talk to me."

"No. No! You talk to me! You and Max know what happened to Carson, don't you? What haven't you told me? No more lies!"

Furious, she wrenched her arms from his grasp and stalked behind her desk, putting a barrier between them. Folding her arms defiantly, she turned to stare at him. Booth, shocked at the intensity of her reaction, took a step toward her, hands turned out in a placating gesture.

"I haven't lied to you, Bones. I just haven't told you everything I know. I know that was wrong, but you've been through a lot over the past few weeks. Max and I didn't want to cause you any more worry, but now I'm thinking we should have told you all this to begin with. I'm sorry."

"Told me what? Did my father kill Carson? He did, didn't he? How else would he have dealt with this situation? It's what he does. He's a killer." She was shaking with anger.

"How can I ever trust him again?" She asked in a whisper, not looking at Booth. He felt the unspoken question like a knife in his chest: could she trust him either? The trust that had built up between them so painstakingly over the years seemed to be evaporating before his eyes. It was the one thing he valued above everything else and he was losing it. He shook his head in despair.

"What you're not saying is that you think I helped him. I'm a killer too, Bones."

His statement galvanized her. With alarming speed she stalked back over to face him.

"No, No! You've changed. You're not the same person you were back then. You're not a killer," she cried. "You stop killers. That's what you are. You're a protector."

Curling her hands into fists she raised them to his chest as if she intended to hit him, but at the last second checked herself. He gently grasped her clenched hands and held them captive.

"Do you really believe that?" His question was quiet and deadly serious.

"Yes, I do." She looked up into his eyes. He was undone by the fragile trust he saw there. She hadn't given up on him after all. Relief flooded through him, leaving him weak. Squeezing his eyes shut, his head sank onto her shoulder. Her hands relaxed and stole around his big frame.

"Promise you'll wait to say anything until I've told you the whole story," he pleaded.

Bones nodded, wrapping her arms around him even tighter, still unable to control her trembling body. He sighed and straightened up so she could see his face.

"Maybe we should go somewhere else," he suggested. Bones smiled weakly. They both knew that even though the blinds were closed, their voices had probably carried quite well. Now the whole lab was undoubtedly waiting to see what was going on between them. She walked over to her chair to get her sweater.

"Why don't we take a walk?" She suggested.

The reflecting pool behind the Jeffersonian had a pea gravel path running along its bank, overhung with one hundred year old cherry trees whose foliage formed a vibrant, cooling shield over their heads as they strolled. The strong rays of the morning sun warmed them in between trees, bolstering Booth's spirits in preparation for what he had to tell Bones. Now that it was all said and done, he regretted not having included her in the loop from the beginning. The fact that he'd upset her by hiding this from her worried him more than the untold parts of the story he was about to recount. He could only hope that once she knew everything, she could find it in her heart to trust him again.

The steady crunch of their footsteps on gravel was the only sound for several minutes while they both collected themselves, consciously distancing themselves from the painful emotions stirred up by the scene inside Brennan's office. By the time they reached the far end of the pool, it felt like the Jeffersonian was a million miles away. The sound of gulls above them and the wind in the cherry branches was balm to their souls. Booth sat on the wooden bench at the corner of the reflecting pool and patted the empty space next to him.

"I'm not sure I want to know any of this," Brennan confessed as she sat down beside him.

"It's not what you think, Bones, but there are some parts that will be hard for you to hear. But I promise; this is the whole truth. I could never lie to you. Do you believe me?"

"Of course, Booth."

"Good." He seemed so genuinely relieved that Bones felt a little sorry for him. Putting a sympathetic hand on his thigh, she scooted a little closer.

"So tell me."

_To be continued…_


End file.
